


Dancing Through the Same Noise

by nubianamy



Category: Glee, How I Met Your Mother
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bars and Pubs, Catfishing, Engagement, Episode: s04e21 The Three Day Rule, Erotic Dreams, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Glee Xover Bang, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Lies, M/M, Multi, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Polyamory Negotiations, Singing, Texting, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-06 13:01:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 32,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8752579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nubianamy/pseuds/nubianamy
Summary: When Puck and Kurt play a joke on Finn and pretend to be his dream girlfriend, things get really complicated really fast.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU based on the episode “[The Three Day Rule” of the show How I Met Your Mother](http://how-i-met-your-mother.wikia.com/wiki/The_Three_Days_Rule). You do not need to know the show or have seen the episode to read this story. 
> 
> Written for the 2016 Glee Crossover Big Bang, with spectacular art by [captainsarasmiles](http://captainsarasmiles.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> The title comes from the song “Shame” by Bastille, from their brilliant 2016 album [Wild World](http://www.nme.com/reviews/album/reviews-bastille-16565).
>
>> There is no love lost here between us  
> We are those friends who pulled no punches  
> Shot from the hip with one another  
> We got so far from then  
> We're miles from way back when
>> 
>> I'm so nervous saying this out loud  
> As the words roll off my tongue and out my mouth
>> 
>> I can see a change, I can see a change in you  
> I see it coursing through your veins  
> And it is a shame, oh it is a shame on you  
> I barely recognize your face
>> 
>> And I don't like what I'm seeing lately  
> I don't like who I'm seeing lately
>> 
>> So many seasons fell beneath us  
> Too many voices on our shoulders  
> I miss us dancing through the same noise  
> But here we are my friend  
> We're miles from way back when
>> 
>> I never knew that I could be so down  
> I never knew that I could be so down until I told you
>> 
>> Maybe I'm living in the past  
> Who am I to judge  
> I'm the worst of all  
> Some things are better left unsaid  
> But I miss the person I knew before  
> 

 

Puck was pretty sure he’d never used the word _swagger_ to describe the way Finn moved, not ever, but it was sure as fuck happening now.  He returned from the bar, waving at the cute chick he’d been talking up, and clutching a piece of paper in both hands like it held the secrets of the universe.  

“I can’t believe she gave me her number,” he marveled, grinning broadly at them.  Puck tipped his beer back and finished it off, then slid it down the table toward the precipice.  Sam caught it before it could take a dive and set it on the floor next to the other empties. Just because it was their favorite bar didn’t mean the service was any good.

“That’s one strike against her already.” Puck eyed the doorway as though he could still see the girl’s ass silhouetted against the night. “I don’t know, Hudson; she’s a little out of your league, don’t you think?”

“Definitely,” Finn agreed. “That makes her even more awesome.”  He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and programmed in the number.  “I’m not going to lose this.”

Kurt filched the number out of his fingers.  “I’m sure _Marley_ will appreciate that,” he said dryly.  “She made big round loops in her letters.”

Puck stabbed the table with one finger. “Dude, girls whose names end in the  _-ly_ sound are always kinky.  Marley... Kelly... Lily…”

Kurt gave Puck an amused look. Puck was happy to take that over the disgusted look Kurt sometimes still gave him.  He didn’t even think he deserved it, most of the time, but who knew what Kurt might find disgusting.  “I wonder if it’s the same for guys whose names end in -ly.”

“Haven’t banged any of them, but if I do, I’ll be sure to ask,” said Puck, and Sam snorted at just the wrong time, sending a lamentable quantity of beer all over his end of the table.

“Warn a guy, will you, Puck?” Sam spluttered, making Kurt giggle.  Now that was a sound Puck could stand behind.  He grinned at Kurt, elbowing him.  

Finn poked at his phone. “You think I should call her now? Before she, like, forgets who I am? If I do it now, she’ll remember, and she’ll know I really wanted to talk to her...”  He trailed off, catching Puck’s glare.  “What?”

“Yeah, no. Forget about it, Finn.  That’s even more dorktastic than I would expect from you.” Puck motioned to the waitress, who made her way across the floor to their table, and gestured at Finn.  “Would you tell my friend here how long you have to wait before calling a girl after she gives you her phone number?”

“Three days,” she said promptly. “Doesn’t everybody know that?”

“Everybody but Brainy McClueless, apparently.”  Puck shrugged, then made a winding motion with his finger.  He figured it could mean _crazy,_ or it could mean _bring another round,_ but just to be clear, he added, “I think that means he gets to pay for the drinks.”

“Come on, that’s a stupid rule,” Finn argued.  “I refuse to believe something would suddenly go wrong just because I don’t wait for three days. Why can’t I just call her because I want to?”

“Strategic move,” said Kurt, sipping his drink, “assuming your goal is to convince her you’re desperate. Oh -- that is your goal, isn’t it?”

This made Sam snort harder, although thankfully he didn’t have any beer in his mouth at the time. Puck figured the table had been christened enough that evening.   

“Harsh,” he said.

Kurt’s eyebrow went up. “What, you’re the only person allowed to trash talk my stepbrother? That’s some kind of discrimination.”

“Seriously, Hudson,” Puck went on, as though Kurt hadn’t spoken.  “You’re going to have to promise me -- promise _us_ \-- that you’re not going to call this girl until three days have gone by. No matter how slutty she is. _Promise.”_

Finn sighed, but he nodded. “Okay.  I promise I won’t call.”

“That’s more like it.”  Puck nodded too, satisfied, then frowned across the room at the bar.  “Now, where the fuck is that beer?  I’m way behind on my Saturday quota.”

* * *

Finn couldn’t remember a time when he and Puck hadn’t been friends.  He knew there had to have been a time, way back before elementary school, before he’d known Puck’s home number and how to get to his house on his bike.  And there were those awful months in sophomore year after Finn had found out the truth about Quinn, that crazy miserable period when Finn stopped accepting texts from him and unfriended him on Facebook and all kinds of really juvenile shit.  But they’d eventually healed from that, and honestly, it was hard now to remember why he’d made Puck wait so long before becoming friends again.  

So ever since then, Finn had pretty much decided not to lie to Puck, ever, about anything, even little stupid things such as _promise you won’t call this girl._

And, as he gazed at her name in his phone, with a foolish little jump in his stomach, he couldn’t help but wonder: _What if she’s the one?  What if this is the one I’ve been waiting for since I put Rachel on the train to New York?_

Reading Marley’s name summoned his finger. He rested it on the surface of his phone, not quite pressing, though with one little flick, he could -- no. He’d promised Puck he wouldn’t call.

“But I didn’t promise I wouldn’t text,” he murmured, and he felt the hopeful grin spread over his own face as he tapped the New Text button.  

It took less than three seconds after he’d pressed Send for him to realize how absolutely, completely, _thoroughly_ stupid the text had sounded.  He glanced around himself wildly, as though the words might be floating there in the air. Maybe he could grab them, saving himself from the misery of waiting for her reply.  Assuming she’d ever actually send one, after picking herself up off the floor from laughing.  

Finn groaned, burying his head in his arms, and settled in to wait.  

It took six minutes before his phone buzzed again, and five seconds for him to read the reply three times in a row.

_I’ve been thinking about you too, Finn. I just took a batch of chocolate chip cookies out of the oven and I was wishing I had someone to share them with._

The jump in his stomach reached Olympic heights.  “Oh,” he said, softly, to the empty room.  

It wasn’t empty for long.  When Sam returned from the gym and saw Finn’s face, he frowned reproachfully.  

“Dude, you said you weren’t going to call that girl,” he said.

“I didn’t call her,” Finn protested. “I texted her.”

“Same freaking difference.”

Finn waved his phone in the air. “Why should I care about some stupid rule about how long guys wait to call?”

“Hey, if you’re not going to listen to me, then listen to Puck,” said Sam, hoisting his gym bag over his shoulder and heading for the bathroom. “He’s the one who has a date every weekend.”

But Finn’s attention was already drawn back to the tiny screen, his mind racing as to what thoughtful, earnest, mildly clever thing he might say next.  He put all his attention toward crafting a reply that would wow her, but he wasn’t really worried.  If Marley hadn’t minded his entirely dorky text, she’d probably put up with a lot.

* * *

Kurt was the only one at the table when Puck got the first text from Finn, so he didn’t bother to try to disguise his grin. “Ha! This is better than I expected.”

Kurt leaned across the table, trying to see what was on Puck’s screen. “What?”

“Remember that ‘promise’ Finn made?” He gave it air quotes. “He already broke it.”

Kurt narrowed his eyes. “And how exactly do you know that?”

“Because I changed Marley’s number in Finn’s phone to my work cell.” Puck held it up and waggled it at Kurt. Kurt’s eyes flew back open.

“You didn’t.”

“I so did. And you won’t believe what he said to her.”

“You are walking clickbait, Noah Puckerman.” Kurt slid out from his side of the booth and came around to sit beside him, grabbing the phone. When he let out a shout of laughter, Puck grinned.

“Oh, Finn,” sighed Kurt. “This is so embarrassing and he doesn’t even know it. We should tell him who he actually sent that to.”

“Yeah.” Puck drummed his fingers on the table. “But we _could_ pretend we’re Marley and we’re making chocolate chip cookies.”

Kurt considered this for about one second before biting his tongue and typing a response to Finn. They waited with their heads bent over the phone for his reply, and broke into giggles when it arrived.

“He’s going to be pissed when we tell him it’s us,” said Kurt.

Puck shrugged. “Maybe, instead, we tell him... we’ve got a thing for tall teddy-bear guys.”

Kurt’s eyes flashed, but his thumbs flew on the keyboard.

 _“Good thing I’m six-four,”_ he read a moment later. “God, is he really?”

“You gotta wonder how he fits on that tiny mattress of his. His legs stick out so far, they bump the wall.”

 _“And I could probably use a trip to the gym._ Yeah, I think the last time he picked up a weight was senior year football training.”

“But you appreciate guys who are a little plush,” Puck said. “They’re more fun to snuggle with. Say that.”

Kurt obliged, nodding. “I really do. But we should really tell him who we--” He paused, reading, and his expression softened. “Aww, he wants to snuggle with us right now.”

“Good thing we just took a shower.” Puck nudged Kurt’s arm. “Tell him skin’s so much better for snuggling. And I bet we’re wearing a sexy silk robe.”

“Yeah, I think that’s already on the floor of our bedroom,” said Kurt, his smile widening.

Puck gripped Kurt’s leg. “Yeah,” he growled. “That’s better.”

Kurt made a little squeak. “He’s not wearing anything either.” He held up a palm, and Puck automatically high-fived it. “This is totally happening.”

“This is _totally_ happening.” Puck grinned triumphantly. “Okay, now we’ll just casually rub one leg up and down on top of his...” His voice trailed off when he realized Kurt was breathing hard. “Um -- I mean… maybe we should rethink this.”

Kurt carefully put the phone down on the table and clasped his hands together, while Puck let go of Kurt’s leg and shifted away from him, as casually as he could.

“I guess we’re being kind of mean,” Kurt added.

“No,” scoffed Puck. “It’s not mean. It’s, you know. For his own good. We’re protecting him from himself. I mean, look at this. He was going to move too fast with Marley and screw things up, again.”

Kurt nodded, looking relieved. “It’s been a long time since Finn really liked someone.”

“You know what we should do? We should get him to say _I love you_ before he even talks to her.”

“Finn’s an I-love-you kind of person.” Kurt put out a hand and rested it on the table. “I don’t think it would take much.”

“We’re helping him.” Puck nodded decisively. He reached past Kurt’s hand and picked up the phone. “That’s all. Just helping him get past this shit and get on with his life.”

“Of course.”

“Right.”

“So what if we tell him…” Kurt thought for a moment. “We feel safe cuddling naked with him, because we know he’s the kind of person we can trust.”

Puck raised an eyebrow. “Are you serious? Tell me, if we were cuddling naked with Finn, would there _not_ be sex? Because, I mean, look at the guy. He’s totally our type.”

Kurt’s face went pink, and he rolled his eyes. “Okay, maybe. But let’s give him the chance to get to know us first at least. It can’t just be about sex. Even if we are totally _his_ type.”

 _“You can rest your head on my chest,”_ Puck read. _"_ _I won’t take advantage of you.”_

Kurt let out a little sigh. “That feels amazing.” He pressed his cheek against Puck’s shoulder. “I wondered from day one what it would be like to be in his arms.”

Puck swallowed as he typed that. “He does give good hugs.”

“He does. Tell him he’s got an amazing smile.”

“You know, I think if we’re specifically trying _not_ to have sex with him,” Puck said, his voice coming out a little high, “we should start talking about something else.”

Kurt sighed again, more briskly this time. “Okay. You’re right. Ask him what kind of music he likes. He can talk about that for hours.”

Puck glanced over at Kurt. “This is really how you want to spend your Sunday? Don’t you need to get home?”

“Blaine’s rehearsal is going late. He’ll barely be around until tomorrow.” Kurt looked at the wall. “We’re helping Finn, right?”

“Oh, jeez,” Puck groaned. “Listen to this. _You like eighties rock, too? We should get married. LOL. j/k.”_

“That’s Finn,” said Kurt, smiling. “When he thinks it’s love, the boundaries just slip away.”

“I didn’t think it would be that easy.” He felt a little disgruntled, replying with a pithy _you’re so sweet._ “Does he think we actually _want_ to rush into commitment?”

“I think he’s lonely. He’d do anything for intimacy, and he thinks if he can find someone who wants him, that means he’s worth something.”

“Someone? Meaning anyone? A warm body?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

Puck snorted. “Is sure-thing sex really worth settling for someone who’s only okay?”

Kurt gazed back at him. “Are you asking me?”

He wondered if he should apologize, or say _no, I didn’t mean you and Blaine,_ even though they all knew that was exactly who Blaine was to Kurt. “I’m just saying, Finn’s looking for _the one,_ and I think as long as he thinks we’re _the one,_ he’s not going to stop until we agree to go all the way.”

“All right. So let’s give him some more evidence that we’re _the one._ Here, let me. You keep misspelling things; he’s going to get suspicious.”

Puck passed the phone to Kurt while he went to the bar and ordered a Heineken for himself, an Amstel Light for Kurt, and a basket of chili cheese fries to share. He watched as Dave Karofsky came in with two of his friends. They gave each other a mutual wave and nod as Dave took the booth behind Kurt’s.

“It’s getting worse,” Kurt reported when he returned with the beer and food. “He made a crazy way-too-soon trip suggestion.”

“Tell him you love classic cars,” said Puck. “Then you can plan the best road trip ever.”

“I do love classic cars.”

“Yeah, and that’ll add authenticity. He can talk about working at the garage, and we can swoon over his mechanical knowledge.”

Kurt smirked. “I know way more about cars than Finn does, Puck.”

“Yeah, but you’re a girl. Girls always pretend to know less than they do so their boyfriends can be smarter than them.”

He wrinkled his nose. “That’s ridiculous. Finn doesn’t want someone who tries not to know things just to make him feel more secure. He wants someone who appreciates him for who he is, and who doesn’t talk down to him.”

“Like Rachel?”

“You could agree never to speak her name again,” said Kurt coolly, returning to the phone, “and it wouldn’t be too soon.”

The road trip turned into an elaborate vacation across the midwest, headed toward the east coast. Kurt hesitated when Finn talked about his stepdad, the US congressional representative, who often spent time in Washington D.C.

“Do I have to make up a family for us?” he said. “Or can we just use yours?”

“If you want to scare him into ditching us, sure,” snorted Puck. “He’d be crazy to want in-laws like my mom and dad.”

“I don’t think he would assume that just because our parents are… challenging that it’s going to be an issue,” protested Kurt. “We turned out great. We’re running a successful pool and hot tub installation business with two locations across Ohio. And our mom isn’t so bad. Plus we have a sister and a half-brother.”

He picked at the fries. “And a kid, don’t forget that.”

Kurt scowled at his tone. “Don’t be talking trash about our Beth. She’s perfect.”

Puck felt the heat burst across his cheeks, and busied himself wiping chili and cheese off his fingers. “Not everybody thinks having a kid is such a great thing, Kurt.”

“Finn loves Beth,” Kurt said fiercely. “Seriously, you have nothing to worry about. See, look what he says: _I’ve always wanted a big family._ We should invite him over for dinner.”

“Who’s moving fast now?” But Puck leaned in closer, watching Kurt type. They both grinned at Finn’s reply, and shared another high-five. “You are really good at this,” he had to admit.

“Just because I’ve only ever had one boyfriend doesn’t mean I’m not an expert at courtship. I spent my entire childhood scripting romances in my head.” Kurt tossed his carefully coiffed head. “If there’s one thing Finn loves, it’s romance. And I don’t mean the pointless flowers-and-chocolate variety. I mean the kind where you tell all your secrets.”

“I don’t know,” Puck said. “I’ve known him practically since he was born, and he’s never talked to me like this.”

“That’s because he knows you don’t want to talk about yourself. It’s okay. Sometimes he needs to tell dirty jokes and watch football instead. We like to do that too.”

“Tell him that. Man, we are so perfect for him, it’s scary.”

“I think we should suggest a blowjob during the football-watching, just to shake him up.”

“Uh, hello?? What was that about _moving fast?”_

They were laughing so loudly at Finn’s responses that Dave actually turned around in his booth and glared at them.

“Why are you guys making so much noise?”

“Um…” said Kurt, still giggling, “do you really want to know?”

Dave’s expression didn’t change. “Would I have asked if I didn’t?”

“We’re trying to get Finn to tell us he loves us,” said Puck.

Dave’s eyebrows went way, way up on his forehead, but he just said, “How’s that going for you?”

Kurt waved the phone at him. “If I were going to take bets, I would say we’ll get there in… oh, twenty-four hours, max.”

Dave turned back around to face his friends, speaking quietly to them. Then he stood up, grabbed a chair from the table beside them, and pulled it up to Puck and Kurt’s booth. “Start again from the beginning.”

It didn’t take long to explain the entire situation to Dave, who after all had known Finn almost as long as they had. Dave listened carefully, asking a few key insightful questions, but seemed to have no trouble accepting the premise that, between the two of them, Puck and Kurt would be able to synthesize a convincingly perfect girlfriend for Finn.

“Okay,” said Dave. He leaned on the table, looking at both of them solemnly. “You guys want a little constructive criticism?”

“Sure,” said Puck. “Hit me.”

“You’re forgetting the way Finn responds to songs. Especially sappy 80’s ballads.”

Kurt looked confused. “We can’t exactly sing to him via text.”

“No, but you can send the lyrics to him. Why don’t you tell Finn…” He paused, then continued, his voice suddenly soft and intimate. “Tell him, as the night moves in, love takes on a new meaning. If you were here, he would know what you mean to say. The circumstance leaves you only waiting for the chance.”

“Nice,” said Puck, nodding in approval. He nudged Kurt, who was staring at Dave. “Say that.” Dave recited the lyrics again as Kurt typed.

“It’s not the way you planned it,” Dave went on. “If he could only know your feelings, he would know how much you do believe… if he were here, tonight, by your side… if he were with you now, where the lights go out… you couldn’t pretend this bed was too big for you to be in alone.”

Kurt’s eyes were as big as silver dollars. “That’s… um, that’s really good.”

“Whatever.” Puck tried to keep his voice steady. “It’s all right.”

Dave gazed across the table at nothing as he spoke. “Every night alone, you just wait here, anticipating the day you won't feel this pain...”

“Oh,” said Kurt breathlessly, and he bit his lip as he reached for Dave’s hand. Dave looked at it in surprise, then up at Kurt, who let go as quickly as he’d grabbed it. “I mean -- yes. I’ll send that to Finn. Who sings that?”

“Alexander O’Neal,” said Puck. They both stared at him, and he took a defensive sip of his beer. “I’m just, you know. Guessing.”

“It’s _[I](https://youtu.be/R6_YdLAu5Zc)[f You Were Here Tonight,](https://youtu.be/R6_YdLAu5Zc)” _ said Dave.

“Well, it was really touching,” Kurt told him. “If anyone decided to read me those lyrics, I would feel -- I mean, I would be hard pressed to say I wasn’t a little bit in love with him.”

Dave gave him a little smile. “That’s the idea, right?”

They waited another few minutes, watching the phone in barely disguised anticipation, but no response came.  

“Nothing, huh?” asked Dave.

“He’s not in love with us,” Kurt said mournfully.

“How can he not be in love with us?” snapped Puck. “We’re everything he’s looking for.”

Kurt sighed dramatically. “I don’t get men.”

Dave pushed his chair out from the table. “I think I’d better head out.”

They both looked up at him in surprise. Kurt appeared absolutely stricken. “But -- don’t you want to see what happens?”

“I have to get to work. But you should consider…” Dave inclined his head, and his lips twitched. “Everywhere I go, you’re always on my mind, in my heart, in my soul.”

“That’s a good one,” Puck said to Kurt as Dave walked toward the door. _"_ _You’re the Inspiration_ by Chicago. We can try that one next.”

* * *

It wasn’t weird for Kurt to invite Puck to his apartment when they were done at the bar. His place was the biggest, and all of them often ended up over there when they weren’t sitting in their usual booth. Puck brought the phone with him and waited by the couch while Kurt changed out of his work clothes.

“Blaine’s still at rehearsal?” called Puck.

“Until one AM,” Kurt called back. He came out, now wearing sweatpants and a blue t-shirt, and nodded questioningly at the phone. Puck shook his head.

“Still nothing. He’s probably gone to bed. He’s never been a late night guy.”

Kurt smiled to himself. “Back in high school, he used to get up with me when I couldn’t sleep and--”

“--drink warm milk, I know.” He grinned at Kurt’s expression. “What, you think he never told me anything?”

“Well, I don’t know.” Kurt sounded more curious than hostile. “The two of you always seemed close in a really… nonverbal kind of way. Like the words didn’t matter so much. And with me, words were all we had. Sometimes he would go days without telling me what he was thinking. That made me miss him more, even when he was right there.”

“But once your parents got married, you had him around all the time.”

Kurt laughed quietly. “You mean Rachel had him all the time. God, I was so relieved when he put her on that train and walked away.”

“Yeah. Me too.” He watched Kurt circle around him and sit on the couch. “I always thought you’d end up in New York, too.”

“Well, maybe I would have, if my dad hadn’t gotten sick again.”

“But he’s all right now, isn’t he?”

“Yeah. I suppose cancer can always come back, but his doctors are pretty sure they got it all. He felt good enough to run for congress, anyway, so that told us something. I liked managing his campaign, but running his office for him now is a lot less stressful.” Kurt looked at the space on the couch beside him, then back up at Puck. “You want to sit down?”

“Sure, yeah. I mean, I should probably get out of here eventually. Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” As Puck settled beside him, together they looked at the phone, and Kurt made a little startled noise when they saw the message already on the screen. “Didn’t you say he didn’t--?”

“I thought he didn’t,” Puck said, aghast. He scrolled back, and they saw it was just one of a long series of messages. “But this one was from twenty minutes ago. _Can’t sleep, can’t stop thinking about you and that song. How did you know it’s one of my favorites?”_

“Go, Dave,” said Kurt, making a _rah-rah_ motion with one fist. “Good choice.”

_“I wish we were together so I could actually sing this one to you.”_

They leaned in simultaneously to read the lyrics. Puck got it first and started laughing.

“Do you know what song it is?” Kurt asked, sounding a little strangled.

In answer, Puck passed the phone to Kurt and [began singing ](https://youtu.be/bvn7lnvkaUs) _[a cappella](https://youtu.be/bvn7lnvkaUs): _

_So long, I've been looking too hard, I've been waiting too long_  
_Sometimes I don't know what I will find, I only know it's a matter of time  
When you love someone, when you love someone_

 _It feels so right, so warm and true, I need to know if you feel it too_  
_Maybe I'm wrong, won't you tell me if I'm coming on too strong  
This heart of mine has been hurt before, this time I want to be sure_

_I've been waiting for a girl like you to come into my life…_

He waited for Kurt to cut him off, maybe to roll his eyes at the lyrics, but Kurt stayed quiet, shifting his gaze between the screen and Puck’s mouth while Puck sang the entire song. He could hear Finn playing the drum part in his head, and he wondered if Kurt was imagining it too.

When he was done, Kurt was silent for a while. Then he cleared his throat.

“The song said,” Kurt whispered hoarsely, “it said, _when you love someone._ Does… does that count?”

“I don’t think so,” said Puck. “I think it can’t be lyrics. It has to be his own actual words for it to count.”

Kurt nodded. He looked troubled. “Yeah, but he’s almost there. He thinks he fell in love with somebody in one day. Doesn’t that make you worry about him a little? That he would consider that to even be possible?”

“A little? Not any more than I already worry about him, I guess. I mean, first of all, he’s putting a lot on what he thinks she looks like. He might not even be attracted to her once he gets to know her.”

“But that wouldn’t be love, anyway,” said Kurt. “That’d be chemistry. A fantasy.”

“Well, that counts for something, doesn’t it? Can you have love without chemistry?”

“I guess not.”

“Right. At the moment he’s going with what he thinks she’s like in his head, instead of what it would really be like, together. He won’t really know until he spends some time with her.” Puck tapped Kurt’s knee. “Second of all… you and me, we know him already. We know him really well. We get to pick and choose the best stuff, the stuff we know he really likes. A real person isn’t like that. You don’t get the best of one person plus the best of another.”

“No,” Kurt admitted. “You get the whole people. Person. Whatever.” He looked at the screen again. “He’s waiting for us to react.”

“He’s going to go to sleep eventually.” Puck reached for the phone, and Kurt handed it to him. “You want to tell him now or wait and tell him in the morning how much that song made us cream our jeans?”

Kurt didn’t laugh. “I think we’d better tell him something now, or else he’s going to wake up in the middle of the night, and look at the phone, and wonder what’s wrong with him that we didn’t write back.”

“Well, jeez, okay. How’d it make you feel?”

“How’d it make _you_ feel?” Kurt asked softly.

“I was the one singing,” Puck objected, but it was only to give him time to think. He wasn’t about to say how it really made him feel. Then he shrugged. _Fuck it._ “Somebody sings me a song like that, I’m either gonna want to cry or have sex with them. Take your pick.”

“Yeah. Me, too. You can put that.”

Puck typed it out and pressed send, then set the phone down next to the couch. “I could leave this with you overnight.”

“No, no, it’s your phone. I can wait until tomorrow.” But Kurt was looking at it longingly.

“How about I crash on your couch?”

“Are you sure?” Even as he spoke, Kurt was already moving toward the hallway. “I have sheets and blankets in the linen closet.”

Puck listened for the answering vibration of the phone, but it stayed quiet. Maybe Finn really had gone to sleep. He considered getting his other phone out and calling Finn, just to get an outside point of view on how he was actually doing.

 _What outside point of view?_ He sighed. _Talk about being in over your fucking head._

Puck moved off the couch while Kurt smoothed a sheet over the cushions and plumped up a fat pillow for him. The thread count of the fabric was definitely higher than anything he’d ever slept on before. Puck ran a hand over the pillow’s surface.

“Puck...” Kurt was standing in the middle of the room, looking lost. For a minute, Puck considered getting up and hugging him, but that might have really turned out weird, so he stayed where he was.

“Yeah?”

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

Puck sat there and waited for a good half minute before Kurt spoke again. The whole time, his stomach was leaping all over the place, while he sternly told himself, _it’s not what you think it is, it’s not about you, it’s not what you want it to be._

“Blaine and I broke up,” Kurt said at last.

“You did?”

“Last week. That’s why he’s not here. I mean, I actually does have rehearsal, too, but… he’s not coming back here tonight. Or at all. He moved out.”  

“Oh.” He tried to think of the usual things people would say under these circumstances. It probably shouldn’t be _thank god._ “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I am. I don’t think he is, but he’ll get through it. I’m the one who broke up with him. I just… I didn’t want you to go on thinking he was coming home, because he’s not.”

“Okay. Do you want to talk about it or anything?”

“I really don’t,” Kurt said. “I guess that’s why I haven’t told anybody else yet.”

“Okay. Well…” He shrugged. “If you change your mind, just come and wake me up. I’m not such a bad listener.”

“I know.” Kurt hesitated, but no more words seemed to be forthcoming. He just nodded. “Well, good night.”

Puck fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the absurdly soft pillow, but when he woke up again, he knew it wasn’t morning yet. Movement on the other side of the room brought him fully awake.

“Kurt?” he called softly.

It was too dark to see details, but at some point he could tell that the silent figure was indeed Kurt. He shifted back on the couch as he felt Kurt touching his feet, trying to make room for him there, but Kurt climbed right on top of his legs, keeping him where he was.

“What are you--?”

“I said I didn’t want to talk,” said Kurt. He tugged on the blanket, and then the sheet, until Puck was lying there beneath him in just his t-shirt and briefs. Puck could hear his labored breathing.

“Are you crying?” he asked.

“No, I’m -- I’m not crying.”

Puck reached out a hand and felt Kurt’s bare shoulder. He heard him sigh.

“What you said before about cuddling naked,” Kurt said. “You were right. There’s no way I wouldn’t want to do all kinds of things with Finn if we were naked together.”

“Yeah,” said Puck. Somehow the dark made it possible for him to add, “Me, too.”

“I thought maybe that was the case.” Kurt’s hand grazed Puck’s chest, coming to rest on his stomach. “What about… with me?”

Puck licked his lips, drenched in arousal so shockingly sudden that he was glad to be lying down. He heard himself make a wordless noise, a little breathy _uh._

“You can tell me if I’m way off base,” Kurt went on quickly, “but I’ve had the feeling that this thing we were -- that there’s some of that chemistry we were talking about. Between you and me. That there has been for a while. And then tonight…”

“You’re not off base,” Puck said.

“Okay. That’s good. But this is… um.” He sighed. “I’ve never been with a man other than Blaine.”

“I’ve never been with _any_ man.”

Kurt laughed nervously. “I guess I’m just trying to say I’m not sure what to do, and you can say no if you don’t want to do any of it with me.”

“I’m not gonna say no to you, Kurt. I mean, I can’t think of anything I would say no to, but if I want to, I’ll say it nice and loud. Otherwise, it’s all a big yes.”

“Yes?” Kurt leaned over him, not quite on top of him, but hovering a few inches above him, close enough for Puck to feel the heat of his skin. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yeah, fuck, yeah.”

He already felt delirious by the time Kurt’s lips touched his. Though the erection that had arisen several times during their long day of texting had subsided while he slept, it was back now with a vengeance. When Kurt’s knee nudged his legs apart, he spread them with a moan.

“Still yes?” Kurt asked.

“Yes to all of it. You got condoms?”

Now Kurt’s laugh was incredulous. “You’re serious? And you’re worried about _Finn_ rushing into things?”

Puck let his hands move down Kurt’s back to his ass. His skin was even softer than the sheets. “I don’t think it actually counts as rushing when I’ve wanted to do this with you for years.”

“Maybe I’m not entirely surprised to hear that.” Kurt made contented noises at the progress of Puck’s hands. “And that feeling -- oh -- is mutual.”

Puck didn’t try to suppress the goofy smile that took over his face. Kurt couldn’t see it anyway. “That’s good to hear.”

“I’d have to go back to the bedroom for condoms. I wasn’t really expecting to come out here and, you know. Do you on the couch.”

“Well, you can go get them, if that’s what you had in mind.”

“Or you could just come back with me into the bedroom.”

Puck allowed himself to be led through the dark apartment and then to be stripped naked before stretching out on what felt like the largest bed in the world. Unless they’d been hosting secret sex parties, there was no way Kurt and Blaine had needed a bed this size.

Kurt’s mouth on his was insistent, but he kept his hands to himself, letting Puck do all the exploring. Puck wished he could see what he was doing, but he thought he kind of got what Kurt was going for by keeping the lights off. Kurt didn’t seem to have any objection to anything he tried, and judging by the noises Kurt was making, and the quivering and thrusting, it felt good.

“If you were serious about the condoms,” Puck said, “I’d be all about that.”

He felt Kurt nod against his neck. “Did -- you want me on top?”

“You are on top,” Puck pointed out. “But I’m pretty flexible if you want me someplace else.” Just in case he hadn’t been clear, he added, “Yeah, I want you on top, if that’s okay.”

“That is so okay,” Kurt promised. He reached up and over Puck to get something off the headboard, leaving Puck to lick and kiss whatever skin happened to come within his reach while he did so. When he returned to lie on top of him again, he could tell Kurt was smiling. “And it seems that _you_ are a lot more okay with this than I expected you to be.”

“What, you thought you were going to have to talk me into having sex with you? Do you have any idea how hot you are?”

Kurt laughed, and kissed him again. “I could say the same about you.”

He was pretty sure that, though neither of them said anything about him, Finn was on both their minds. Not that naked Kurt kneeling over him and slowly working his way inside him wasn’t totally good enough all by itself. He felt a little overwhelmed when he felt Kurt bottom out, and he clutched Kurt’s hips with both hands, holding him still.

“Just a minute,” he said, and Kurt nodded, kissing his neck and chest while he waited.

“When you sang to me, last night. I know, it wasn’t really from you. But it kind of felt like--”

“It _was_ from me,” said Puck. “Not that I thought I had a chance before last night. Or even really until you decided to... do me on the couch.”

Kurt’s laughter was muffled against his skin. “I almost regret bringing you back in here. Maybe tomorrow we really will have to do that.”

It was apparently an inspirational idea for both of them. Puck was grateful for Kurt’s excellent coordination, because he was able to match the rhythm of his hips and his hand long enough for them both to reach a successful conclusion at roughly the same time.

“Shit,” gasped Puck, as Kurt lowered himself onto the bed beside him. “If I hadn’t been a buttsex convert already, I’d sure as fuck be one now.”

The cuddling afterward didn’t feel obligatory, as it had often seemed in the past with girls. Puck couldn’t get over the way Kurt felt in his arms, firm and strong and so fucking _different,_ he couldn’t stop touching him. Luckily, Kurt didn’t seem to mind.

“I’m really the first man you’ve been with?” Kurt asked.

“If you don’t count incidental contact during threesomes and foursomes. And years of fantasies.”

Kurt cleared his throat. “So, just to say this... I think jumping out of one relationship and into another one is a terrible idea. But it’s not because I don’t… I mean, I’m not saying I wouldn’t...”

“Hey, no,” Puck said, as Kurt faltered. “It’s cool. I mean, who said I was looking for that anyway? It can just be -- what it is.”

“Okay. Yes.” Kurt leaned over and kissed him. “I’m going to go get cleaned up.”

Puck took a turn after Kurt in his immaculate bathroom, wondering if he should just head right back to the couch, but Kurt caught him in the doorway. It was still dark.

“Would you stay?” he asked. “In my bed tonight?”

“Yeah,” Puck said, relieved, “I’d like that. Lemme get my pillow.”

He checked the phone, which was still sitting on the table beside the couch, but there had been no response from Finn. He brought it with him into Kurt’s bedroom anyway, showing it to him before he set it on the headboard.

“It’s okay if you think I’m the biggest jerk for even thinking about him, right after you and I --”

“No,” said Kurt. He reached out and pulled Puck close to him. “I don’t think that. I understand.”

“Yeah? Kudos to you. I’m not sure _I_ even understand.”

They lay there for several minutes with their arms around each other, not speaking. Puck wondered if Kurt had fallen asleep, but then Kurt said, “Sometimes I get the feeling we’ve all been looking at one another so long that we have a hard time seeing who’s really there.”

“Easier to listen honestly on the phone, then. Or in the dark.”

Kurt sounded subdued, and a little surprised. “Yes.”

Puck found Kurt’s soft lips and kissed him, and Kurt kissed him back. It went on for long enough that Puck wondered if they were going to start all over again from the beginning, but Kurt finally put a hand on his chest. They broke apart reluctantly.

“I do have to work tomorrow,” Kurt sighed. “Not that this isn’t -- I mean, you feel amazing.”

They were the same words Kurt had used with Finn earlier. It did feel amazing. For some reason knowing that Kurt thought so, too, made him more willing to let Kurt go and close his eyes.  

* * *

When Puck woke up in Kurt’s bed the next morning, the first thing he saw was Kurt, sitting naked and cross-legged beside him, smiling at the phone in his hand. His thumbs were moving rapidly over the keyboard, interspersed by brief pauses.

He wondered if he should feel something other than pleased to be watching Kurt do this, but he didn’t. In his mind, he substituted the phone for Finn, and considered how it might feel to wake up to the two of them smiling at one another that way.

 _That would be better,_ he thought, and yawned.

Even so, Kurt looked a little guilty as he set the phone down on the pillow beside them. He reached over and touched Puck’s arm. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Oh, yeah.” Puck stretched, letting the sheet fall away from his body just to enjoy the appreciation on Kurt’s face. He propped himself up on one elbow. “How’s Finn?”

“Attentive.” Kurt blushed. “We’ve been talking for a while. About dreams, and regrets. Did you know he’s been thinking about going back to college?”

“Yeah? That didn’t go so well the first time. All he wanted to do was party, even with me in his dorm room to keep him on task.”

“I think there’s a chance he’d do better this time.”

Kurt’s eyes kept straying to other parts of Puck’s body. It was intoxicating to witness Kurt looking at him like that. Puck smiled. “Don’t you have to go to work?”

“I called and said I’d be late.” He touched his own cell phone on the headboard, identical to the one Puck used for business, and gave Puck a hopeful return smile. In response, Puck pushed the sheets away and climbed on top of Kurt, sitting on his legs. Kurt laughed. “Well, this feels familiar.”

“Okay in the light?” Puck asked.

Kurt squinted at the morning sun filtering through the sheer curtains, then back up at Puck, still smiling. He didn’t appear to be worried.

“I think you’re seeing me pretty clearly now,” he said.

Puck leaned over him and kissed him. Every response, every sound Kurt made was perfect.

“I can’t stop thinking about you on that couch,” Puck said, and Kurt groaned. He spread his legs wider to make more room for Puck’s hand between them.

“You liked that?”

“I think I’m going to end up thinking about it a lot.” Puck watched Kurt’s eyes close and his head tip back, leaning into his touch. “When I’m alone.”

“I -- think about you being alone sometimes,” Kurt admitted. “When I’m alone.”

“Oh, yeah?” He shifted down lower on the bed, pressing his lips to the inside of Kurt’s thigh. “Do you think about me doing this?”

Kurt made a lot of affirmative responses after that, but Puck didn’t say anything else until much later, when Kurt rested a hand on Puck’s head.

“Not bad for a first attempt?” Puck asked.

“Did you hear me complaining?” Kurt heaved a long, contented sigh. “But consider yourself invited to practice your technique, any time.”

They were probably going to have to have a conversation about how often _any time_ was going to be, or about whether or not Kurt thought they were going to tell anybody else about what they were doing, but Puck decided now was not the moment. Instead, he crawled back up on top of Kurt and kissed him enthusiastically while Kurt touched him in all the best places. He’d never been this much into kissing somebody, but then, he’d never had anybody this skilled at touching him, either. It took about three minutes to finish, and he didn’t even feel bad about employing his usual fantasies about Finn while they did it.

“This,” he said, kissing Kurt once more, “was by far the best date I’ve had in years.”

This seemed to please Kurt. They showered efficiently, after which Puck sat on the bed and texted Finn while Kurt got ready for work.

“Oh, oh,” he said, waving his hand as Kurt fastened his tie. “We got an _I haven’t felt like this in a long time._ That’s just inches away from _I love you,_ isn’t it?”

“Tell him we’ll talk more at lunch,” said Kurt, “and you come to the congressional office with the phone. And maybe drop some more lyrics on him in the meantime.”

Kissing Kurt in his fancy suit was an unexpected turn-on, but Puck didn’t rub up against him or anything. He could play it cool.

 _Maybe I should wait three days before I see him again,_  he thought. The idea sounded ludicrous, even in his head. He and Kurt had known each other for years. They hung out with each other practically every day already. Now it looked like there might be sex along with the hanging out, which he thought might be pretty close to perfect.

The only thing that felt confusing was this thing with Finn and the phone. It was obvious that coming clean would be even more complicated than keeping it going. What they were actually doing, he wasn’t sure, but he’d waited this long. He could wait a little longer and see what happened.

* * *

When lunch rolled around, Puck arrived at Kurt’s office as requested. His secretary sent him back, and he knocked twice on the door before entering. Kurt was on the phone, but he beckoned Puck in and gestured toward the conference table.

Puck set the bag of sandwiches down and took a seat, watching Kurt pace back and forth beside the windows as he spoke earnestly to the constituent about his denied veterans’ benefit. By the time he ended the call, Kurt was watching Puck curiously.

“What?” said Kurt.

“What what?” asked Puck.

“You’re grinning about something. Is it Finn? What did he say?”

“No, it’s not Finn. It’s just…” He shrugged, trying not to feel self-conscious. “You. Being all official. Plus you look good in that suit.”

“Oh.” Kurt took that in. Then he walked over to stand behind Puck’s chair, letting his hands rest on Puck’s chest. When he leaned over to kiss his cheek, Puck turned his head to catch his lips instead, and Kurt chuckled.

“This is okay in your dad’s office?” Puck asked after a minute.

“Why not? We’re alone. I’m single.” Kurt kissed his ear, and Puck shifted a little in his chair. “I liked having you watch me get dressed this morning.”

“I liked all the other stuff we did, too. You have the biggest fucking bed.”

“Just think about all the other things we could do in it.”

“Yeah, I have been. All morning.” He pressed the palm of his hand briefly against his fly. Kurt tracked the action, then let his own hand slide down to mirror it. “Uh -- are you sure nobody can see us through those windows…?”

“We’re on the fourth floor. God, Puck, your abs. You have an actual six-pack.”

Puck sighed and and rested his head back against Kurt, letting his legs fall open as Kurt caressed his stomach. “Thought you preferred guys who were a little plush. Or did you make that up?”

“It would be more accurate to say I have an appreciation for men of all body types.” He traced the outline of Puck’s erection with one finger. “And I may have been wondering what it would be like to touch yours for a while now.”

“How about Dave? I think he still has a thing for you.”

“Dave? I think there’s too much history there for us to really be compatible, no matter how sweet he was at the bar.”

“What about Finn?”

“Well.” Kurt’s hand stopped. He cleared his throat. “I… suppose Finn might be as close to my type as I could come, but I think that’s because he’s _Finn,_ not because of how he looks.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“You’re worried about how I feel about him?”

“Not worried,” Puck clarified. “Just thinking about it. You and Finn.”

“Oh.” Kurt sat down beside him, watching him soberly. “So, would that be good thinking or bad thinking?”

“Definitely good thinking.”

“Well.” He shrugged and looked at the floor. “Not that any of that would ever happen with Finn.”

Puck couldn’t deny that, but he hadn’t come to Kurt’s office to depress him. He scooted his chair closer to Kurt and kissed him again.

“I’m not sure if it’s because you’re a guy,” he said between kisses, “or because you’re you, but kissing you is awesome.”

“I’m not sure the why is all that important when it comes to being compatible kissers,” said Kurt, but he smiled. When he brushed gentle fingers across Puck’s chest, finding his nipple ring, Puck sat very still, trying not to let any shameless whimpering noises escape from his mouth. Kurt’s smile broadened. “I must say, being your first is a lovely ego boost, but that doesn’t mean I have to be your only.”

“Hey, I’m not saying I would say no to opportunities if they came along, but it’s not as if I’m rolling in offers from other dudes. Maybe I’m a little picky, I don’t know.” He shivered as Kurt wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in closer. “Fuck. If you keep doing that, at some point here I’m just going to offer to blow you under your desk…”

“Well, that image is certainly going to follow me for the rest of the day.” Kurt leaned back, putting a little space between them, and took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s eat lunch. And hand that phone over.”

Once they initiated contact with Finn, it was easier to focus on that for a while. Finn told them a story about a particularly exasperating customer at the garage. The fact that they both knew the customer in question didn’t make it any less entertaining. By the end, they were both laughing.

“Oh, god,” said Kurt, wiping his eyes, “I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to look at Mr. Pinckney the same way again.”

Puck swallowed his last bite of sandwich and grinned. “I forgot how fucking funny Finn can be when he tries.”

“When he’s not depressed or worried or lonely, you mean. Yes.” Kurt shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “Not that I like him any less when he’s like that.”

“No. I know.”

He folded and unfolded his napkin as his eyes flickered across the phone’s screen. “I don’t think Blaine was ever really aware of how much I still thought about Finn that way.”

Puck snorted. “If Blaine didn’t notice you still felt like that about Finn, I don’t think he was paying very close attention. I mean, _I_ knew.”

“Yes, but it turns out _you_ were actually paying pretty close attention to me, too.”

He spun the fancy conference table chair around in a circle to distract Kurt from noticing how hard he was blushing. “Well, not in a creepy way. But Blaine was your boyfriend. He was supposed to be paying attention.”

“There were a lot of things boyfriends are supposed to do that Blaine never was all that good at.”

Puck wasn’t sure if it was intended to be a suggestive statement, but he spent several minutes considering many boyfriendly-things in great detail while Kurt continued his text conversation with Finn. Puck watched him out of the corner of his eye, letting his imagination run away with him while taking in Kurt’s entirely unselfconscious and obviously lovesick expression.

“You don’t have to make stuff up with me,” he said.

“Hmm?” Kurt looked up, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Like I said earlier. You don’t have to pretend to be something, or not to be something, just because you think I want that. I like you the way you are.”

Kurt’s expression smoothed out into a pleased smile. Looking at it inspired a very complicated set of feelings. Puck wondered if Kurt would notice any of them on his face.

“You do seem to,” Kurt agreed. “Like me, I mean. That’s been... an unexpectedly wonderful discovery.”

Puck leaned in for another kiss. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

This time the kissing accelerated more quickly into breathless groping. Puck decided he was going to have to redirect the conversation, or there was no way he wasn’t going to end up getting naked in Kurt’s office. “You got dinner plans?”

Kurt’s laugh was entirely too sexy. “Not ones involving food.”

“How does take-out sound? I could pick it up and meet you at the bar, then we could head back to your place to eat it.”

“Maybe you’d let me indulge some of my non-food desires afterward?”

“Or before. Or before and after. Like I said, I’m not likely to say no to you.”

Kurt shook his head in wonder. “Yeah, you’ll forgive me if I’m still having trouble taking that for granted. I’m the one who’s been trying to suppress my interest in you for years.”

He wasn’t going to fall into the _I’ve-been-hot-for-you-since_ game with Kurt, because then he would be forced to admit how long he’d been mooning over Finn. Although, he had to admit, it was pretty awesome to imagine Kurt jerking off to thoughts of him in high school. He looked down at Finn’s last sappy text to them. “I’m kind of surprised he hasn’t suggested a face-to-face meeting with us yet.”

“Me too.” Kurt typed something to that effect. While they waited in silence for Finn’s response, Kurt laced his fingers through Puck’s. He didn’t even seem to realize he was doing it, which somehow made it even better.

 _“I can’t yet,”_ Kurt read, sounding mystified. “Why not? We’re practically dating already. He’s obviously crazy about us.”

“Yeah, and it’s mutual.” He paused, then added, “We’re acting like it is, anyway. I mean… Marley is. She’s definitely crazy about him.”

Kurt glanced over at him. “You know it’s not acting.”

Puck met his eyes briefly, then looked away and shook his head. “No.”

“It’s not for me, anyway.” Kurt sounded sad, or perhaps resigned. When Puck squeezed his hand, he squeezed back. Kurt’s hand in his gave him some kind of crazy courage. He took a deep breath.

“It’s not for me, either, but... does it even matter? When Finn finds out what’s been going on, what are the chances he’s _not_ going to want to kick my ass? So what if we’re doing this for his own good? He’s going to say, _you lied to me again,_ and he’ll be right.”

“But you’ve _actually_ been lying about how you feel about him for years.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s not like I’m about to tell him _that.”_

“No, that would definitely be worse,” Kurt said fervently. “He and I went through that confrontation in high school.”

The phone chimed, and they leaned in together to look at his reply.

 _“No, you really are awesome,”_ Kurt read, _“but I promised my best friends I--”_ He broke off with a little startled laugh, then continued. _“I wouldn’t call you for three days.”_

The way Kurt looked at him, Puck thought the next thing he typed might be something they’d both regret. He reached out and grabbed the phone from Kurt’s hand.

 _I bet your best friends didn’t expect it would be like this,_ he typed.

 _No, they just know me. I tend to jump into things. They don’t want me to seem desperate and scare you away._ After a moment, Finn added, _I’m not scaring you away, am I?_

 _You do seem too good to be true,_ Puck said.

Kurt exhaled slowly, looking away from the screen. He pushed his chair away and stood up, retreating behind his desk, and stared out the window.

“I’m not exactly sure who’s being taught a lesson here,” he said.

 _Maybe we should take a break?_ Finn replied.

“Yeah, well.” Puck felt his stomach twist with familiar disappointment. “It’s an old fucking lesson. Seems like I should have learned it by now.”

 _We can do that, if you want,_ he told Finn. Then he tossed the phone on Kurt’s desk. It skittered past neat stacks of paper and came to a halt beside Kurt’s identical phone.

“No, no.” Kurt glanced back over his shoulder at Puck and smiled. “I understand this kind of torture. Sometimes, getting something is better than getting nothing.”

Puck decided the desk was just in the way. He walked over and joined Kurt beside the window, putting an arm around his shoulder. “Even if it’s pretend?”

“He’s not pretending,” Kurt said softly. “No matter what he thinks we look like, his feelings? Those are real.”

He sighed. “If you actually think that, Kurt, then you really are lying to yourself.”

Kurt shifted his gaze to the floor. “I’d better get back to work.”

Puck took a few steps back, letting go of Kurt’s shoulder, but Kurt didn’t move. “Okay, well… just let me know what you want to do about dinner.”

He picked up his phone and slipped it into his jacket pocket, wondering if he should check to see if Finn had responded. But Finn had suggested taking a break, and that might not be the worst idea. A little time to focus on the real world might be a good thing for all of them.

* * *

“You know what, guys?” Sam slid into the booth beside Kurt after work. “Finn is completely obsessed with this girl Marley. They have been texting practically nonstop since yesterday. If I hear one more report about her favorite food, I’m going to toss his phone off the balcony.”

“Well, you know Finn,” said Kurt. “He’s had a pretty bad year. Maybe you should give him a break.”

“No, but I’m pretty sure she’s lying about most of it. I mean, who sits around playing video games in their old cheerleading uniform?”

“Tina?”

“Besides her.”

“Me?” said Kurt. “And no judgment, please. Those Cheerios pants are remarkably comfortable.”

“Oh, and get this. Then she accidentally sent a text to him that was clearly meant for somebody else. She said, and I quote, _Why don’t I pick up some takeout from Gennaros tonight, and then you can do me on the couch._ ” Sam paused as Puck winced and Kurt stared at the ceiling. “Wait a minute.”

“You have the suckiest poker face, Hummel,” Puck growled.

 _“You’re_ Marley?” yelped Sam.

Kurt rolled his eyes. “We both are.”

Sam grabbed the cell phone off the table, and before Puck could snatch it away, he scrolled back to the beginning of the conversation on the screen. “What the hell?”

Puck snorted scornfully. “Come on. It was obvious Finn was gonna cave and call her before the three days were up. I swiped his cell phone and changed her number to my work number. It’s a good thing, too, because he would have completely blown his chances with the real Marley, being this needy with a chick. This way, maybe he’ll at least have a chance to see if she’s… worth his time.”

“So you’ve been carrying on a fake conversation with Finn? For _eighteen hours?”_ Sam looked completely appalled.

“Don’t judge us,” protested Kurt. “You don’t know what it’s been like. I mean, at first, it was nothing but a little joke.”

“And now?”

Kurt glanced at Puck. His eyes were communicating something, Puck wasn’t sure, but it was complicated and it made his stomach feel funny.

“Now it’s a bigger joke,” said Puck. “Anyway, great job, Kurt, for sending a text to the _wrong person_ from the _wrong phone.”_

“It’s not my fault my cell phone looks just like the one you use for work,” retorted Kurt.

Sam shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over now. Here’s what’s going to happen: you’re going to call Finn _right now,_ tell him what you did, and apologize. Got it?”

He glared at them until they both looked away and nodded. When he headed for the door, Puck turned to Kurt.

“Or,” he said earnestly, “we could tell him it was just a misunderstanding.”

Kurt didn’t look at Puck as though he’d lost his mind. He just nodded again. “Because we still haven’t gotten him to say _I love you.”_

“It won’t take much more time,” said Puck. “There’s no way he can resist us. We’re awesome.”

“We really are.”

Their smile went on a little too long to be appropriate for a public location, but Puck let it go and leaned in over Kurt’s shoulder to look at the phone. “Okay, here’s what I think we should say…”

* * *

Back at their apartment, Sam listened in disbelief as Finn explained how Marley’s dumb friend Karol had used her phone by mistake to text her boyfriend Shane.

“And now Marley and I are better than ever,” finished Finn. He was smiling, not the gonna-get-some smile, but something softer. “I know this sounds crazy, but…”

“You’re not in love with Marley,” said Sam flatly.

“Sam, I know it’s impossible, but I really think I’m--”

“No. It’s not her. You’re in love with Kurt and Puck.”

Finn’s face went blank. “I -- what?”

“It’s been them all along, pretending to be Marley. You were never talking to her at all. It was always them, sitting down at the bar, making all of this up.”

“They were making all of this up?” Finn repeated.

“That’s what I’m saying.”

He turned and walked slowly to the couch.  “Boy. That’s... really unexpected.”

“Yeah. So you’d better tell them you’re on to them.”

Finn was quiet for a long moment, scrolling through pages of texts. He didn’t appear to be angry, or even hurt. He just looked thoughtful.

“How about instead I text them something that will really mess with their heads?” he said.

“Oh, a little taste of their own medicine, huh?” Sam considered this. “Mean, but they deserve it. How about: _I haven’t told any of my friends this, but I only have three months to live.”_

“No, no,” said Finn, his thumbs already moving on his phone. “I know exactly what I want to say.”

* * *

Kurt made a fresh salad to go with the Italian takeout. Puck wasn’t generally a salad guy, but he ate every bite, smiling at Kurt’s animated summary of the issues he’d encountered at work. Eventually Kurt paused and closed his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” said Kurt. “I didn’t mean to go on like that.”

“Hey, do you see me complaining?” He reached out and touched Kurt’s hand. “You’re used to talking about your day with your boyfriend. I’m used to hanging out with guys at the bar before coming home to an empty apartment.”

He fiddled with his fork. “Well, the last few years, I’ve been mostly on my own while Blaine was at rehearsals. I guess I miss having someone to talk to.”

“Trust me, I get it,” Puck nodded. “Not that it’s not easier to do my own thing sometimes, but this is definitely better. Wine, non-paper plates… I mean, I don’t know the last time I had actual vegetables in my dinner.”

Kurt’s smile was brilliant. It made Puck want to set dinner aside and get to the dessert, but he told himself sternly to relax.

“I had to do something to apologize for using the wrong phone to text Finn,” said Kurt. “God, I didn’t think that was actually possible. I must have been really distracted.”

Finn’s response to Kurt’s gaffe had been both flattered and panicked, saying _I really can’t_ and _I mean I really want to,_  before Kurt reassured him the text had been meant for someone else.

“And now he’s gonna think you’re cheating on him with somebody else,” said Puck.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t I?”

“We’re a collective, though. So in this situation, you’re cheating with me, who is also us. Isn’t that more like… I don’t know, masturbation?”

Kurt started to laugh. “Are you trying to say it’s permissible to cheat within the collective? If I were sleeping with anybody else -- which I am not -- that would be a problem, but because it’s you, it’s fine?”

It was too hard to think about it without feeling both sad and turned on, so Puck simply shook his head. “I think we should just be glad it was Finn. Anybody else who got a text like that, meant for somebody else, would have said _fuck this, I’m outta here.”_

Kurt’s laughter subsided to a wistful smile. “Finn’s the only one I can imagine being the subject of something like this.”

“Yeah?”

“Unless you have another friend you’ve been secretly in love with for years.”

Puck licked his lips and folded his napkin, then reached for the wine bottle. “Okay, come on, get the phone. He said six-thirty, and it’s already two minutes past.”

Kurt followed him and the bottle of cabernet to the couch with the phone. Puck was ready to put everything aside and spend a little time straddling Kurt on that couch when Kurt grabbed his leg. “Oooh! He texted back already. _Listen to this. I probably shouldn’t tell you this... I mean we barely know each other... but what the hell, I’ll just say it.”_  

Puck grinned while Kurt fired off a quick reply. “Here comes the I love you.”

Kurt’s anticipatory smile froze on his face, then disappeared. “Whoa.”

“What did he say?”

_“I sometimes have gay dreams about my best friend.”_

Puck’s first reaction was laughter, but when Kurt’s expression didn’t change, he pulled the phone over to read the words for himself.

“Why would Finn text a girl he barely knows that he sometimes has gay dreams about you?”

Kurt’s forehead furrowed. He shook his head. “No, wait a minute. He’s clearly talking about you. You’re his best friend.”

“Maybe when we were ten, sure. But now, who does he call every weekend? Him and me, we just hang out at the bar together.” Puck gestured at Kurt. “Plus if anyone were to have gay dreams about one of us, it would be you. I mean, look at you.”

Kurt actually gaped at him. Then he laughed. “Are you kidding me? Between the two of us, there’s no contest. Finn doesn’t care the first thing about fashion. You’ve got the most incredible body.”

“Dude, you go to the gym more than I do, and don’t try to pretend you don’t. Trust me, I notice. And that’s not what Finn wants, anyway. You’d cook for him. You’d make dinner, and then you’d suck his dick, and then you’d talk all night while snuggling. Game over.”

“Oh, no,” Kurt said, shaking his head again, more insistently. “You’d pull out your guitar, which would cause him to melt all over this couch. He’d be begging to go down on you. And you’d do just fine reciprocating. Or you’d talk dirty to him, and he’d bottom for you in about five seconds.”

The image was more than compelling, but Puck shrugged it away. “Oh, man, Kurt, give me a break. Do you have any idea what kind of fantasies you inspire? You do this thing with your lips, it drives me crazy. There is nobody as hot as you. If Finn were to fall for any guy, it would never be me. It would totally be you.”

Kurt seemed to be struck speechless by this declaration. When Puck leaned over to kiss him hungrily, Kurt met him with equal fervor. The phone slid to the floor and remained there while they struggled out of their clothes.

“I know you said you wanted to do me on this couch,” Puck panted, his hands skating over every naked surface he could reach, “but you think you could deal with me on top right now?”

Kurt nodded emphatically. “You know where I keep the supplies.”

As he hurried to the bedroom and returned with condoms and lube, Puck rehearsed his next sentence. He thought it through about eight times before deciding there really was no uncomplicated way to say it. Then he dragged Kurt to the edge of the couch and knelt there, finding the ways in which their bodies matched up.

“This,” whispered Puck. “I really want to watch him doing this to you.”

The sound Kurt made in response was immediate and loud. “God. All I can think about are the things you could do to _him._ You would blow his mind.”

It wasn’t the first time Puck had shared his fantasies about guys with someone he was having sex with, but it was definitely the first time that person knew exactly _who_ he was talking about. They quickly lost their words, but they both kept their eyes wide open throughout the entire brief encounter.

When Puck gathered Kurt up afterward and held him, he could feel Kurt crying.

“Hey,” Puck said softly, but Kurt turned his face away.

“Do you think I’m using you?” Kurt asked, his voice tight.

“No more than I’m using you. And I’m letting you, so I don’t think it counts.”

“Because I like you. I -- I like you a lot.”

Puck nodded, handing Kurt a tissue before climbing up to sit beside him on the couch. “I know. It’s not about that. I don’t care that I’m not really who you’re thinking about.”

Kurt cried a little more. Eventually he deflated into a miserable little pile. “I really don’t get that. How can you not be upset about me thinking about him?”

He danced around several answers before finally saying, “I don’t need to be selfish. What do I care how many guys you want to fuck if you’re also fucking me?”

Kurt nodded slowly, taking that in as he wiped his eyes. Then he looked up and smiled. “You were exactly who I needed right now.”

Puck hugged him again, holding on until he was sure he wasn’t going to start blubbering himself. One of them crying was plenty. “I vote for finishing this conversation in your bed.”

“With Finn or without?”

He picked up the fallen phone and waved it. “What do you think?”

It was a lot easier to get naked and lie down with Kurt now that some of the most complicated words had been said. Puck wrapped his arms around him from behind and watched over his shoulder as Kurt talked to Finn about the gay dreams.

“Tell him you’ve had a thing for your stepbrother since you were in high school,” Puck said.

Kurt chuckled. He was completely relaxed now, warm and pliable in his arms. “You don’t have a stepbrother. Remember, it’s _your_ family.”

“Oh, right. Well…” He buried his nose in Kurt’s neck and took a fortifying breath. “Then tell him you’ve had a thing for your best friend since you were in grade school.”

Kurt typed that. Then he twisted back around far enough to look into Puck’s eyes. “I’m not worried about that, okay? Like I said, I understand.”

“It’s just... I guess I know how I expect this to end now.”

Kurt nodded. “You’re not going to tell him it was us.”

“I can’t, can I? At some point Marley’s simply not going to text him back. I’ll get my work number changed, and... that’ll be the end of it.”

The phone chimed, and they both swiveled to focus on it. Kurt held it up so they could read the screen together. _I suppose I should just tell him about the dreams. I mean, we tell each other everything._

Puck swallowed as Kurt let out a sigh. “This is the worst unintentional guilt trip.”

“I know. Makes me want to give up this shit completely.”

“Why don’t I just tell him it was me?” said Kurt. “Then you’d be off the hook. He already knows how _I_ felt about him in high school.”

“No way,” Puck said vehemently. “Think about how super-awkward every family gathering would be after that. No, I think I should tell him it was me, and say the whole thing was a joke. Plus, his dreams have always been crazy. The guy dreams about talking french fries, for crying out loud. So what if he had sex dreams about you.”

“I’m telling you, he was having those dreams about _you.”_ Kurt hid his face in his hand. “God. We really are assholes. Why did we ever think this was okay?”

“Because we’re fucking desperate?” Puck nudged Kurt’s wrist with his knuckles. “It’s okay to keep a secret like this from him, Kurt. He wouldn’t have wanted you to be uncomfortable.”

“Or you,” said Kurt, but he emerged from behind his hand and focused on the screen. “Okay, okay. I’m just going to say, _Having dreams about another man doesn’t make you gay.”_

“I dunno,” Puck murmured. “You haven’t seen my dreams.”

“You can tell me all about them. Anyway, I’d like to think we’ve moved beyond two possible options when it comes to sexual orientation? You’ve always been pretty fluid. There’s no reason Finn couldn’t be, too.”

“No,” said Puck. He tried not to grit his teeth. _“No,_ he can’t be, and I can’t be either, and the reason is we live in the middle of fucking Ohio, and the things I want aren’t okay with most people, including my mom.”

Kurt shrugged. “She’s always been nice to me.”

“You really want to see what would happen if I brought you home and told her --”

Puck cut himself off, not looking at Kurt. But Kurt was suddenly looking at him.

“Told her what?” he said softly.

“Never mind.”

“You think she’d be upset if you and I started dating?”

He snorted, trying to stuff down the panic. “She’d have a lot to say to me in private, that’s for sure.”

“Well, what if you and Finn--”

“That’s never going to happen, okay?” His voice came out louder than he’d intended. Kurt flinched back against the pillow, his eyes wide.

“He’s having dreams about one of us.”

“Yeah, and so fucking what? Finn’s been chasing girls since he was eight. He’s not about to wake up and go, _oh, check it out, I didn’t realize for the past fifteen years that dick would be an acceptable alternative._ He’s just going to keep hoping that the next girl is the one who’s going to fix all his problems, and when she isn’t, I’m going to keep being the one to pick up the fucking pieces at the bar the next day.”

His voice broke on the words _fix all his problems,_ but he pushed through to the end of the sentence anyway. Kurt carefully set the phone on the headboard and put his arms around Puck, making embarrassing little shushing noises. Puck struggled in his embrace.

“This is not who I am, Kurt,” he protested. “This is not who I am with Finn, or with you. With anybody.”

“Well, you’re not Finn’s dream girlfriend either,” said Kurt, sounding a little aggravated, “but together we’ve played her pretty convincingly. How’s it feel?”

Puck screwed up his face and glared at him. “Fucking weird.”

“Because you don’t like it or because you think other people won’t?”

When Puck didn’t reply, Kurt put a hand on the back of his head and pulled him into a long, slow kiss. It was the kind of kiss Puck would have used on a girl to get her to stop arguing and start rubbing her body against him. It worked just as well on him.

“Okay,” said Kurt breathlessly. “How does it feel to be with me, then?”

Puck kissed him back, picking up where Kurt had left off. He was pleased to notice how quickly they’d both recovered from their earlier activities on the couch, but Kurt still seemed to be waiting for an answer from him.

“You want the truth?” He hovered close to Kurt’s mouth, feeling each exhalation land on his cheek.

“Yeah, I do.”

“No bullshit rules about not moving too fast?”

“Yes, please.”

“This is pretty much the best thing I’ve ever had. Which maybe isn’t saying much, but it’s scaring the crap out of me.” Puck paused to gather his courage, then added, “And I’m _still_ wishing things were different with Finn. How’s that for pathetic?”

Kurt was still watching him, focusing directly on his lips as he spoke. It was sharply sweet to have Kurt this close, to be able to see every tiny discrete movement of the muscles of his face. Even as he wanted to roll his eyes at himself, Puck could feel himself sinking, drowning in the embrace of Kurt’s enormous bed, and the support of his arms.

“God,” Puck muttered. “I am so fucked.”

“Beg pardon,” Kurt said, “but I think that would be _we_ are so fucked. We’re a collective, remember? Which implies we’re in this together.” He chased Puck’s gaze with his own until they met, and held it. “So are we?”

“Are we what?”

“In this.”

 _In this._ Whatever part of himself that was sure he hadn’t yet had enough sex took the opportunity to wake up and start grinding against Kurt’s leg. He groaned as Kurt’s hands cinched themselves around his ass and pulled the two of them more tightly together.

“You want to be _in this?”_ Puck asked.

Kurt nodded quickly. “I want that so much. I had no idea I wanted that with you, but it’s so good. It’s _so_ good.”

He couldn’t deny that, but even as Kurt was reaching for the strip of condoms, something made him say, “But you just broke up with Blaine.”

Kurt used two hands to rip open the square foil packet. It seemed to be taking all his attention, so Puck reached out to help him. As he did, Kurt grabbed his wrist and held it tight. He spoke rapid-fire, like it was taking all his energy to keep it going and he didn’t want to stop.

“If you can tell me with any kind of certainty that you could sit at that table in the bar with me and Finn and Sam and not give everything away about you and me, I might consider trying to keep it a secret. But I’m not at all sure I can do that.”

Puck nodded, waiting. The conflict playing across Kurt’s face mirrored how he was feeling so exactly that it almost made him smile.

“The truth is,” Kurt went on, his voice remarkably steady, “the feelings I have for Finn might as well be pretend for all the good they’re doing me. Finn isn’t in any position to give me what I need. I think what happened with Rachel hurt him more than he knows, and even now, years later, he hasn’t recovered. He’s still looking for that dream.”

“But you’re still waiting for him to wake up,” said Puck. “Just like I am.”

“Right.” Kurt let go of his wrist, and watched while Puck rolled the condom onto him. “So if you can live with the idea that I’m more invested in waiting for a fantasy than accepting a reality, I don’t think we need to be worried about moving too fast. This is what we’ve got, right here. You and me, together.”

Puck nodded. He felt strangely relieved. “Yeah. That’s okay.”

Their second time in less than an hour was slow, almost methodical. Puck let himself appreciate the vision of Kurt kneeling over him in the light, in the open. He wasn’t going to worry about going too fast here, or too slowly. He was just going to let it be what it was.

* * *

They were sitting with Sam at their table in the bar, dissecting the most recent episode of their favorite police procedural, when Finn strode in. He gave them a thoughtful smile as he sat down next to Sam.

“Man,” said Finn, “I had a really strange dream last night.”

Sam snickered. “Talking french fries again?”

“No, this was different. It was about us. Kind of.”

“Us,” repeated Kurt. He gave Finn a casual nod. “Which us?”

“You know, the four of us. Well, later it was two of us. That wasn’t the weird part, though. It was, um.” He shook his head. “Never mind.”

“No, no,” Puck protested quickly. “Come on. You can’t leave us hanging. Another infamous Finn Hudson dream. What happened?”

“Well…” He glanced around them and lowered his voice. “It’s a little embarrassing.”

All of them leaned in a little closer, reducing the space between them to almost nothing. “Nobody’s going to make fun of you,” said Kurt.

“Well, I might,” Puck offered. Sam kicked him under the table, and he didn’t attempt to protest.

“Okay.” Finn ran a hand over his face and sighed. “This is what happened. We were all walking toward the woods, the one you can get to across from the high school, where the fence has a hole in it? Except in my dream, there was no hole in the fence. We had to walk all the way around the corner and under the overpass to get to the woods, and by the time we got down there, it was raining, so we just sat there on the sidewalk, playing with the echo…” He put his hands to his mouth and made his voice sound hollow and resonant. “Marco.”

“Polo,” they all chorused back. Kurt laughed.

“Like that,” agreed Finn. “And there was all this trash on the sidewalk, not gross garbage, just junk, papers and plastic bags and snack wrappers and stuff, but we didn’t pick it up, we just ignored it and waited for the rain to stop. So then Kurt, you went over to the edge and you looked out at the rain, it was really coming down by now, and you said, _You know, it’s barely raining at all._ And the rest of us looked at you like you were crazy, but you were sure it wasn’t raining. And you said, _I’m just going to head over to the woods now._ And you took off.”

They all looked at Kurt, and he stared back.

“Dude, in the rain?” Puck asked.

Kurt flailed his arms. “It was _his_ dream!”

“So then we were there, and it started raining more, and it was getting dark, not so dark you couldn’t see the woods, but it was definitely darker. And Sam, you went over to where Kurt had been, and you were, like, _No, it’s totally raining, he was insane to go out in that. We’d better wait it out._ And then... this alien showed up.”

“An alien,” said Puck. “How did you know it was an alien?”

“Like, you could tell it was an alien, but that was about it.”

“Did it appear out of nowhere, or did it come in from the rain?” asked Sam.

“I don’t even know. I guess it was just there. I didn’t ask. You know how dreams are.” Finn stared at his hands. “And Puck, you said, _Hey, Kurt, you made it back.”_

“Oh, weird,” Sam said, laughing. “Like the rain transformed him or something?”

“I don’t think so,” Finn said. “It was more like he’d been that way all the time and I never realized.”

Kurt looked like he was trying hard to keep smiling, but he was clearly uncomfortable. “Okay.”

“Yeah, I was like, _That’s not Kurt, that’s an alien._ And Puck said, _No way, it’s totally Kurt. Can’t you tell?”_ Finn chewed on his lip and looked over at Puck. “Only I couldn’t.”

“That’s pretty creepy,” said Sam. He’d stopped smiling, too.

“So I decided I was going to go out into the rain to find Kurt. I mean, that clearly wasn’t him, and I knew where he went. It was raining really hard by now, and I got totally soaked. So wet I could barely move. Like, it was pushing me around, and I couldn’t figure out which way to go. I just kind of stumbled around, hoping I’d notice the trees or find Kurt or something I recognized.”

They sat there in silence for a few moments. Puck moved the hot sauce from one side of the salt-and-pepper shakers to the other.

“Did you?” he asked. “Find Kurt?”

“No,” he said. “I found another alien. A different one. This one didn’t look anything like Kurt, either. But it followed me, and we eventually got back to the overpass, and Kurt was still gone, and now so was Puck? And this time Sam said, _Oh, hey, Puck.”_

“Jesus,” whispered Kurt. He looked a little ill. “That’s--”

“Wait, I’m not done. I was completely sure Sam was wrong, but I didn’t want to argue, so I went out in the rain again to look for Puck. This time I think I had a better idea of where to go, because I ended up in the woods. It wasn’t so wet there, but it was still cold, and now I was alone, so I started looking around, hoping to find Kurt or Puck. And then, all of a sudden, in front of me, the three of you were there with this big umbrella, standing there like you’d been waiting there for me the whole time. And Kurt held up these alien masks, and Puck, you said…” He smiled. “You said, _Pretty good joke, huh?”_

They all looked at one another again.

“Uh, not really,” said Sam. “Kind of an awful one, actually.”

“Well, that’s what I thought. I figured, if they really had been aliens, at least it could have explained it. I knew my real best friends would never have played such a horrible, cruel joke on somebody they cared about.”

Kurt winced and looked away. Puck got ready to say something in his defense, but before he could speak, Finn got up.

“You know what,” said Finn, “I think I’m just too tired to hang out tonight. I’m going to head home. ‘Night.”

Kurt rested his face in his hands and let out a shaky breath as Finn disappeared through the front door. Sam glared at Puck.

“You didn’t tell him what you guys were doing, did you.”

“No. I guess he figured it out anyway.”

“Dude, _I_ told him.”

Kurt dropped his hands and stared at him in horror. “You!?”

“Yes! When I got back to the apartment and you obviously hadn’t. He was about to tell me he was in love with Marley. And I said…” Sam shook his head in disgust. “I can’t believe you didn’t--”

“What did you say?” Puck interrupted.

“What?”

“When you told him. What did you say?”

“I said it was you. That you’d been sitting down here the whole time, making it all up. He wasn’t in love with Marley; he was in love with you guys.” Sam wiggled his fingers noncommittally. “Sort of. You know what I mean.”

“I know,” said Kurt. Suddenly he got up, grabbed his bag and rushed out the door. Both Puck and Sam stood up too, but they just stood there, watching him go.

“I didn’t mean to freak him out,” Sam said. “Yeah, okay, it was a mean joke, but…” He shrugged in confusion. “Finn’ll get over it, you know?”

“I know,” Puck said heavily. “I’ll go after Kurt. It’ll be okay. Don’t worry.”

Puck wasn’t sure at all, but it was true he and Finn had gotten through worse shit in high school, and Finn and Kurt sure as hell had, too. There was a chance they could figure it out.

Heading out the door to the sidewalk, he wasn’t sure who he should be following. He pulled out his phone and texted Finn. _Where are you?_

_Who is this?_

_You know who this is, dork. It’s Puck._

_I don’t know if I should believe what I think I know,_ Finn replied. _I can’t take the name on my phone for granted anymore._

Puck stopped on the corner and glared at his phone. _Are you really going to punish all of us with this kind of wounded martyr bullshit?_

 _I don’t want to punish anybody._ Then, _Maybe I did a little, but I’m already over it._

 _So what do you want?_ Puck typed slowly. He hesitated before pressing Send.

_Nothing._

He crossed at the light and headed south, ignoring most of the passers-by and shoving his way through the rest of them. If he wasn’t going to be able to yell at Finn, he would just take it out on the rest of the city.

“Fuck this,” he muttered, and pressed Call. He put the phone to his ear and waited for Finn to pick up. It rang four times and went to voicemail. “Fuck!” he said again, much louder this time. A woman walking by with her daughter glared at him.

He hung up and called Kurt. This time it took six rings to go to voicemail.

“This is not as bad as you think it is,” Puck said. “I know that sucked, but we deserved it. Now it’s over and we can -- just call me back.”

He hung up again. This time he stood there, fuming, for another thirty seconds before turning around and heading toward his car.

 _This was bad._ Yes, things had been bad between them in the past, but this felt bad in an entirely new and irreparable way. The whole way over to Finn’s, Puck tried to conjure up a vision in his head of what life with Finn and Kurt might look like after today, and all he could see was a fake, strained, laugh-track sitcom version of what they had been doing for the past ten years. Just thinking about it made him want to puke.

Finn didn’t buzz him into the building when he arrived on the porch of his complex, so Puck waited around until somebody else came out, then ducked inside. He took the stairs up to the second floor two at a time.

“Finn,” he called, giving the door a good _one-two-three_ thump with the side of his fist. “Come on, open up. I’m gonna piss off your neighbors until you let me inside.”

 _“No,”_ said Finn through the door.

“It was a fucking joke.”

_“I know. That’s why I’m not letting you in.”_

The cold feeling in his stomach spread to his chest, making it hard to breathe. Puck leaned back against the wall.

“I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear.”

 _“I know you didn’t,”_ Finn said again.

“Don’t blame Kurt,” he begged. “This was me, not him. You know he wouldn’t have done something like this.”

_“I thought I knew that. He did it, though.”_

“But you don’t know all of it.”

_“I know enough. Just… go home, Puck.”_

Puck had never been one to judge how far was too far to push Finn, so he stuck around another five minutes, long enough for it to be clear that Finn wasn’t going to respond to further pleas, but finally he had to give up. There was no sense in standing around in the hallway for nothing.

He called Kurt twice on the way home, but Kurt still wasn’t picking up. Puck didn’t even think about going back to the bar. Instead, he drove over to Kurt’s office to see if he might be there. Then he called Sam.

Sam sounded pissed, but at least he’d answered his phone. _“What?”_

“Look, can you just tell Finn—“ Puck began, but Sam cut him off.

_“Dude, he’s not even talking to me right now, and I didn’t even do anything. I think you’re just gonna have to wait until he gets over it.”_

“Yeah.” Puck swallowed, staring up at Kurt’s fourth-floor window. It was indeed impossible to see what was going on in there from the ground. “I guess that was a pretty shitty joke.”

_“Since when do you ever play nice jokes?”_

He just hung his head. He could feel the weight of everything pulling it down. “Yeah. I guess not. Would you tell him not to blame Kurt for this?”

_“I’ll tell him.”_

As Puck hung up, Kurt’s office window, which had been lit, went dark. He scrambled out of the car and jogged across the parking lot in order to be in sight of the door when Kurt emerged from the lobby.

When Kurt saw him, he paused for just a moment before brushing past him toward his Cadillac.

“Are _you_ going to refuse to talk to me, too?” Puck asked, following a few steps behind.

“Puck, this isn’t a good idea.”

“This?”

“This,” Kurt echoed. His hands wrapped around his own arms, and he gave Puck a reproachful glance. _“Us.”_

“Okay, I think we established that already.” Puck took a couple long strides and ended up in front of him, blocking his path to the car. Kurt wheeled away, rolling his eyes and muttering under his breath. “You’re right! It’s stupid. Like a guy like you and a guy like me could ever—“

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” Kurt glared at him. “Excuse me, can I put my briefcase _in_ the car, please? This is Gucci.”

He hovered beside Kurt while he set his bag in the back seat. “Look. I’m not saying I — it’s just, this whole thing with Finn, and the way things have gone this week with you, I didn’t expect—“

He cut himself off. In the three seconds he took to compose himself, Puck watched Kurt’s own expression cycle from anger to pain, to uncertainty, and back to anger again.

 _“You_ didn’t expect?” said Kurt. “What about _me?_ How am I going to ever face Finn again? It took me years to convince him I was over him. He’s part of my _family._ It’s not like I can just stop going home.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He hoped it came out sounding the way he meant, with complete sincerity, and not like he was trying to weasel out of taking responsibility for the situation. “I’m going to do everything I can to fix it, okay? For all we know, he still thinks all of it was a big joke.”

“It’s _not,”_ said Kurt. He wasn’t crying, but the way he was acting, Puck thought he might start any second. “And I don’t think I can go back to pretending it was.”

“That’s what I’m saying.” He moved in close, close enough that his jacket brushed against Kurt’s stomach.

Kurt could have eliminated the contact between them just by taking one step back, but he didn’t. He stood there, waiting, while Puck reached out and rested a hand on his rib cage.  Kurt’s body was trembling, his heart beating a little too fast.

“I can’t pretend about _this,_ Kurt, _”_ Puck said. “No matter how stupid an idea it is. You said you didn’t want to, either. Do you still feel that way?”

Kurt put his hand on top of Puck’s. He didn’t push Puck’s hand away. Instead, he held it closer, pressing it against him, like it was some essential thing and he didn’t want to let it go.

“I just wanted a little time to get used to being without Blaine,” Kurt said. “I haven’t been single since high school.”

It sounded very reasonable. Even Kurt’s tone of voice was reasonable, but his expression didn’t match his tone. Puck wanted to kiss that look off his face, to throw him up against the car and make Kurt’s logical mind shut up for a few minutes. Instead, he said, “You didn’t answer my question.”

Kurt sighed. “You made it clear you didn’t want to tell your mom.”

“I don’t. But I think it might be worth doing it anyway.”

He watched Kurt’s anger evaporate. “You… you would do that?”

“Hey, I know I’m asking a lot. If you’d rather be single than keep doing this thing with me, I’d understand why. But if you want to keep trying, it seems only fair I should take some risks, too.”

Now Kurt just looked stunned. “You’d come out because of me?”

Whatever jokes Puck might have made about the situation forty-eight hours ago, there was no way he was going to make them now. He leaned in and let his lips brush against Kurt’s, waiting until Kurt reciprocated to put his arms around him.

“This isn’t about Finn,” he said against Kurt’s cheek. “I guess that was the reason it came up, but this, you and me, it’s… its own thing. I’m asking you. I know it’s a bad idea, and way too soon, and… I’m still asking.”

Kurt kissed him again in response. Maybe Kurt was crying now and maybe he wasn’t; it was hard to tell where the wetness on their skin had come from. Kurt’s hug left him breathless.

“Can we get out of this parking lot?” asked Kurt.

“You could come over to my place, if you want, but my bed’s not nearly as awesome as yours.”

Now Kurt was smiling. That smile might have been the best thing Puck had ever seen. “I liked having you in my bed.”

Puck followed Kurt back to his apartment. He left his work phone in the glove compartment. Whatever else was going on in their fucked-up circle of friends, Kurt deserved to have somebody focus on him for a change.


	2. Three years later

“… And the kitchen, you should have seen it before, it was like a cave, I am not even kidding. The former owners ripped out the whole second floor and opened it up, and there’s this overlook…” Brendan gestured up at the vaulted ceiling. “See? And just look at those skylights.”

Puck gazed around the sun-dappled kitchen, nodding in grudging approval. “Nice.”

“I know, right? This place is going to sell like _that.”_ Brendan snapped his fingers. “I think you should put some money on the table. Make an offer, even if it’s low. Normally I wouldn’t push my clients, but I know Kurt, and I’m telling you…”

“No, you’re right.” Puck waved him away as he dug his buzzing phone out of his pocket. “He would love it. I mean, I don’t give two shits about skylights, but—“ His words ground to an abrupt halt as he stared at the screen.

“I know house shopping’s not your thing, but I figured you’d know your boyfriend well enough to make this decision without him, or else he’d be here with you.” Brendan crossed his arms and leaned against the counter, watching Puck curiously. “What’s wrong?”

Puck cleared his throat, trying to figure out how to answer that question. “I—I got a text. From… an old friend. Somebody I haven’t heard from in a while.”

Maybe it was stupid that he hadn’t deleted the conversation that “Marley” had had with Finn, but there it was, the last tender words of their exchange at the top of the screen, dated over three years ago. Now, here was the new timestamp from just seconds before, and words that made his stomach clench: _I heard that Alexander O’Neal song on the radio today._ Puck tipped the phone to show Brendan, who nodded sympathetically.

“Old boyfriend?” he guessed.

“No, nothing like that.” Puck flashed him a smile. “Didn’t you know Kurt was the first guy I ever dated?”

Brendan’s laugh was disbelieving. _“You?”_

“Pinky swear. Not until after we moved to DC. It just takes some of us longer.” His eyes strayed back to the phone. “This guy was my best friend in high school.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to deal with that. You’ve got my number when you’re ready to make an offer.” He patted Puck’s shoulder. “Don’t wait. This place seriously won’t last.”

Puck wandered slowly down the stairs and out to the street, watching Brendan drive away. He’d already read about the neighborhood, which had reasonably low crime and good schools, and he’d spotted at least two rainbow flags in windows on the block. He imagined Kurt’s excitement about the kitchen skylights, and he smiled to himself.

Then he sat down behind the wheel of his car and regarded his phone for a long time, trying to figure out what to say. Probably he shouldn’t even consider replying, but that didn’t feel like an option.

 _I heard it a couple months ago, too,_ Puck wrote finally. He waited for a response, wondering if one would come at all, but it arrived almost immediately.

_I don’t think I even knew that song before._

Puck knew what Finn meant by _before._ He often thought about his own life like that, as in _before Kurt_ and _after Kurt._

 _I thought you said that was one of your favorite songs?_ Puck typed.

_Yeah, well, I guess you’re not the only one who can tell lies._

It stung, even after all these years, but he ignored it. _You really should text Kurt. He’d really like to know you were thinking about him._

_Honestly I didn’t know whose phone this was. It could have been a burner for all I knew._

Puck rested his head back against the seat for a few minutes before returning to the conversation. Being angry wasn’t going to help either one of them. _Okay, but I’m guessing you do know Kurt’s number?_

_Yeah, I do._

_Or were you thinking you’d actually reach Marley this way?_

It was kind of a crappy thing to say, since he knew Finn and Marley’s actual relationship hadn’t lasted more than six months, but there was no way he could take back a text. He probably wouldn’t have wanted to, anyway.

 _God I hope not,_ Finn said. _She was seriously crazy. I shouldn't have gotten involved with her in the first place._

Puck snorted. _Is this where I say I never liked her?_

_You can say that. All I can say it was better than having nobody._

Puck wasn’t sure that was true, but he guessed he knew Finn thought it was. Or at least Finn had thought that, before. Maybe he had a _before_ and an _after,_ too. They’d barely spoken since he and Kurt had moved to DC.

 _This is still my work number,_ Puck told him. _I didn’t bother to get it changed when we moved. Nobody cares about area codes anymore._

_Somehow I thought this number might get both of you._

_What do you mean, both of us?_

_I don’t know._

Puck waited a minute in the silence before typing, _You could have sent a group text to our regular numbers._

_Yeah, I know, but this was the one we used before. And I’ve read all those conversations over a million times and there’s no way that was all just you. I think I know who said what by now, but I always wondered if I was right._

The idea of Finn reading and rereading their eighteen-hour collective fake seduction was surprisingly painful to contemplate. _What part were you wondering about?_

There was a long pause. _Are you going to tell Kurt about this?_

_Is there a reason I shouldn’t?_

_I figured you guys told each other everything._

He frowned at the uncomfortable twinge in his gut. _Not everything._

_Why not?_

_Dude,_ he typed, jabbing the keys with his thumbs, _seems pretty clear why not._

_What, lies are easier?_

_Not really. Sometimes. I mean sometimes you have to._

_Tell me a lie you had to tell._

_Why would I do that?_

_Why would you tell a lie or why would you tell me about it?_

_The second one,_ said Puck. His stomach was seriously starting to hurt.

_Because you owe me._

“What does that even mean?” he muttered. But he didn’t hesitate before replying, _Okay._

_Well?_

_I’m fucking thinking of one, give me a minute._

Finn did give him a minute. As it passed, Puck stared out the window of his car, watching a couple walk by with their toddler. It took the toddler about five minutes to make it half a block because she kept stopping to touch everything, but her parents didn’t look like they were in a hurry.

 _I told Kurt a lie today,_ he said.

_What was it?_

He let out his breath very slowly through his teeth, feeling the tension in his neck increase. _I said I was going to the gym after work, but I didn’t._

_If you tell me you’re cheating on him I’m seriously going to fly to DC and kick your ass._

_Like you even know where we live._

_My mom would tell me._

That was probably true. Kurt said, of everyone in the family, Carole had never taken sides between Puck and Kurt and Finn. Burt, on the other hand, had ended up firmly on the side of his son and, probably by default, his son’s boyfriend. It had been easier to avoid dealing with Finn once Kurt had accepted the job of managing his father’s office in the Capitol Complex, but Carole still called Kurt every week.

_No, I’m not cheating on him._

_So what were you doing after work?_

The toddler had paused next to a slender tree growing out of the sidewalk and was inspecting its bark. She looked entirely fascinated by the texture of the tree’s surface. With one little hand, she patted it, then she laughed, loudly enough to be heard through the window of the car.

 _I was looking at a house,_ he told Finn. _With a realtor._

There was another long pause. On the screen, Puck watched Finn start and stop his sentence several times before the sentence finally appeared: _Why would that be a lie you had to tell?_

Puck thought about the conversation he and Kurt had had had two months previously, just after Kurt had auditioned, on a whim, for a local production of “Anything Goes.” He’d received an immediate and unexpected callback for the part of Billy Crocker.

“Between work and the show, I’d never be home,” Kurt had said, while nestled in Puck’s arms.

“I know,” Puck had replied. “I still think you should take it.”

“I don’t want this to end up the way it was with me and Blaine, how we just grew apart and stopped talking to one another.”

“It won’t be like that.”

Kurt had looked so uncertain. “How do you know?”

He hadn’t had a satisfactory answer for Kurt, or at least not one he’d been willing to say out loud. There were reasons you waited to tell people important things. You didn’t rush into them.

 _He’s thinking about stuff,_ Puck told Finn. _I don’t want to pull focus when he has other things to deal with. I can handle this._

_Maybe he would rather know. Maybe he’d want to have a say. To be involved._

_Yeah, but it doesn’t always work that way. We’re both busy, we don’t get to do everything we want to do together._

_That sounds like a bullshit reason,_ said Finn. _And totally does not explain why you’d need to lie to him. Buying a house is a big deal._

He wasn’t going to try to explain to Finn that everything was a big deal in this relationship, or how he didn’t have to worry about telling Kurt everything because they actually trusted each other, and especially not how he hadn’t realized _before_ how much things mattered when you loved someone this much.

 _I’m going to tell him,_ he said _. I just haven’t told him yet._

_See, this is why I stopped returning your calls._

Puck jerked back, feeling stung. _Why?_

_Because I didn’t like who you were becoming._

_I wasn’t any different. What do you mean? Who was I becoming?_

_A liar._

The words hovered on the screen. Even when Puck closed his eyes, they were still there.

 _It’s not like I never lied to you before that,_ Puck said.

_No but I thought we were over that?? I thought you trusted me more than that._

Puck was still trying to formulate a response that didn’t involve Kurt when Finn’s next words froze his fingers where they were.

_I had another gay dream._

Puck stared at the words. He licked his lips. _Don’t you think you should be talking to Kurt about that?_

_Aren’t you just as gay as Kurt? That’s what I heard, anyway._

_What the fuck does “just as gay” mean? Are there levels of gayness? Or is it because the dream was about him?_

_Parts of it was._

He felt his dick give a sudden inconvenient throb. But Finn wasn’t done.

_I’m just wondering what you were trying to prove with that whole thing. You guys pretending to be Marley. Why would you do that other than to mess with me?_

_Because you were going to tell her you loved her way too soon and screw things up._

_So??_

Puck sighed. _So you did that with like the last five girls you dated before her. You don’t just assume things are going to stay great because they start great._

_But the way she was talking, the things she was saying, she did sound great. Why wouldn’t I just admit that?_

_Because it’s never that simple,_ Puck said. He wanted to scream it into Finn’s face, not to type it as inadequate characters on a screen. _Falling in love takes time and trust and a bigger understanding of somebody then you can get from spending a couple days or weeks or months with them. You have to find out all the messy things about them. You have to find out how it feels to make up after a fight. You have to learn how they want to live their life, the everyday stuff, and whether or not the way they do that is the way you want to do it too. Because everybody has secrets, things they don't reveal to anybody, things they don’t even realize themselves, until you really get to know them._

_Like the fact that they’re really two guys?_

_No!_ He groaned out loud. _Not like that._

_Well, it was like that. I guess you proved that people aren’t always who they say they are._

Puck couldn’t say much in response to that. Finn paused a moment before going on, and Puck just sat there in the front seat of his car, waiting and staring at his phone, wondering what the hell he thought he was doing even having this conversation.

_It turned out there was another big thing I didn't know about you, huh? When did you expect to tell me that one?_

The answer, of course, was _never._ He had never planned to tell Finn how he’d felt about him — how he’d felt since before he had words for it. At that moment, even the distance between Lima and DC seemed like not nearly enough. He considered turning off his phone, but that would have been a supreme dick move.

 _I don’t know why you think I had to,_ he typed. _Because best friends tell each other everything?_

_How about because he was my fucking stepbrother?_

Puck laughed before he felt the rush of relief. _That_ was what Finn was talking about?

 _The thing with Kurt was a surprise to me, too,_ Puck said. _Trust me, I know he’s way out of my league._

_You didn’t know you liked him, or you didn’t know you liked guys?_

_No, I always knew both of those things. I didn’t know he liked me._

_So you were lying to me after all._

Puck actually rolled his eyes. _You want to tell me you would have been thrilled to find out your best friend was hot for your stepbrother? How would that have helped? There’s a reason people don’t come out in high school. Nobody really wants to know you’re not who you pretend to be._

 _So who am I pretending to be?_ Finn asked.

The question didn’t make any sense to Puck. _You never pretended to be anybody. You were always just you._

_But that was never enough for the girls I dated. I always wanted to be with someone who would accept me for who I was. Who wouldn't want me to work at being somebody else. Just somebody who liked me for me, and that would be enough._

Puck had told himself he wasn’t going to let Finn get to him, that this conversation wasn’t going to be about who Finn had or had not always been to him. Now he could see just how useless an idea that was. Even now, three years _After Kurt,_ everything he thought and felt was apparently still about Finn. Now, his gut was roiling and he was hard as a rock and he hated himself a hundred times more than he had ten minutes ago.

 _That’s a lot to expect from strangers,_ said Puck. _You really thought you were going to get that from a chance encounter at the bar?_

_Well, I don’t know. That’s where you always went looking for girls._

_Who said I was ever looking for that when I went on dates with girls?_

_I thought that’s what everybody was looking for._

Puck felt himself grinding his teeth. _Look, if your goal in this conversation was to make me feel guilty, congratulations, it worked._

_That’s not what I meant to do._

_No? What, then?_

_I’m trying to tell you I miss you, dumbass._

His lips went numb, and he pinched them together to bring back the feeling. “Fuck,” he whispered. The one word was loud in the quiet car.

 _You should be talking to Kurt,_ he typed, before any other regrettable phrases could emerge from his fingertips. _He’s the one who really feels bad about everything._

_I should be talking to both of you._

Puck’s heart thudded dully, in time to the pulse in his groin. _Okay, well, give me forty-five minutes to get home. DC traffic is a fucking nightmare._

_Okay._

Puck didn’t dare turn on the radio, because he knew God was just sadistic enough to make it play Finn’s favorite sappy 80s ballads for him to hear. He didn’t call Kurt, either; after two near-accidents in the last year while fiddling with wireless car connections, he’d sworn off distracted driving. Instead, while he crept down the beltway, he tried to do math in his head, calculating the potential monthly condo payment using the terms the bank had given him. He wondered if he had enough in his bank account to cover both the closing costs and the other thing he’d been saving up for.

 _Maybe Kurt won’t even want that other thing after you tell him about this conversation,_ he thought, but he knew it was useless to wonder about it. He would learn the answer in forty-five minutes.

Kurt was sitting at the kitchen counter when he arrived, eating the last bites of his dinner. He smiled at Puck and gestured at the other plate of food covered in plastic wrap, sitting on the counter.

“I wasn’t sure how long you’d be. Traffic worse than usual?”

“No. It was — something else.”

Puck set down his bag and went to stand beside him, ignoring the food. Kurt looked startled when Puck took his hand, but he held on, looking him with wide eyes.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” He made himself try again, feeling Finn’s word still burning into the back of his mind: _liar._ “No, there is something. I just don’t know where to start.”

“It’s okay,” Kurt said immediately. He squeezed Puck’s hand. “Whatever it is. Just take your time. Do you want a beer, or—?”

“No.” He did, actually, and he wondered if that _no_ counted as a lie, too? Did he have to explain about being afraid of turning into an alcoholic like his dad, or could he just gloss over that part and assume Kurt would understand? His brain felt too full and his lips too dry for him to bring it all up at the moment. “I guess I’m kind of freaking out,” he admitted.

“Yeah.” Kurt slid off the stool and put his arms around Puck, doing that soothing-shushing thing that made him feel both sheepish and so fucking lucky at the same time. He took a shuddering breath and held on for just a few precious seconds before letting go. He needed to be looking at Kurt when he said these things.

“I did something today I have to tell you about.”

“Okay.” Now Kurt looked wary, but he was still there, waiting, trusting. Puck swallowed painfully.

“But then something else happened and I… I don’t know which one to talk about first.”

Kurt thought about it. “How about you tell me about them in any order, and I won’t react to them until I hear them both?”

Puck had to smile. “I don’t think you’re going to be able to do that.”

“Try me?”

“Okay. Yeah. Um…” He pulled out the phone from his pocket and set it on the counter. “I got a text a couple hours ago. From Finn.”

Kurt’s face went ashen. He managed a nod, then whispered, “It’s not my dad or Carole, is it?”

“No! No, everybody’s okay. This isn’t about them. It’s about… us.” He wasn’t sure how to define the _us,_ but after the things Finn had said, he knew he had to include all three of them. He just wasn’t sure if _us_ also included _the collective person you and I made up three years ago._ “This was out of the blue.”

“Okay. Sorry. That wasn’t a very good non-reaction, I just…” Kurt seemed to see Puck’s phone sitting there on the counter, and he paused. “Finn texted you on _that_ phone?”

“Yeah, I know. He said he wasn’t even sure who he was going to get, but that he was looking for both of us.”

“Both of us,” Kurt echoed softly. “What did he want to say?”

“I’m not sure, but I told him I’d let him know when I was home so you could be there. I mean, he did say some things already.” _I didn’t like who you were becoming,_ Finn had said. He wasn’t sure if he could avoid using the word _liar_ out loud; it felt too hard even to think it. “He’s still mad, and hurt, but he said he misses us.”

Tears were trickling out of the corners of Kurt’s eyes, but his face was steady. “Okay. What’s the other thing?”

“We really don’t have to talk about it now,” Puck said, but Kurt shook his head.

“You said it was important, and I promised I’d listen. Finn’s waited this long. He can wait a little longer.”

He gathered Kurt up in his arms and hugged him hard, letting himself smell Kurt’s hair and lean into his strength, just for another moment. “You really are fucking awesome.”

“You tell me that every day.”

“Yeah, but it’s not because I want you to do anything differently. It’s just because it’s true.”

He felt Kurt nod, his fingers soft on the back of Puck’s head. There was no way his body wasn’t going to respond, being this close to Kurt, but Puck refused to let it become a make-out session. Suddenly his meeting that evening with Brendan seemed outrageously presumptuous.

“I just wanted to say that because, whatever else happens, I still think we’re good together.”

“Now I’m really starting to worry.” Kurt laughed. “Would you just tell me what happened?”

“Okay. I, um. I called Brendan Knapp. A couple weeks ago. I told him I wanted him to look out for a place for us.”

“A place?” Kurt sounded baffled.

“A condo. Something small enough we could afford, but with — you know, with all the things we need.”

“Brendan’s a realtor?”

“I thought you knew that?”

“If I did, I forgot.”

“Anyway. There hasn’t been anything good in our price range, but today he showed me this one condo in Brookland. It’s small and needs a new floor, but they just redid the kitchen and, um, there’s these skylights…” He tried not to cringe as Kurt regarded him from inches away.

“Brookland isn’t too far from the Loop.”

“No, and the public elementary there is supposed to be pretty good. Brendan says he knows at least two gay couples who have bought there in the last six months.”

“You know my dad hasn’t made up his mind about running again next term.”

Puck laughed. “What, are you kidding? He’s totally going to run. His approval ratings are over fifty-five percent, last time you checked, right? I mean, what would he do if he wasn’t trying to fix Ohio? Work for Finn at the garage?”

Kurt wasn’t exactly smiling. He was just watching Puck. “So this condo. You liked it?”

“I think _you’d_ like it,” he said. “I think I have enough for the closing costs, and we can probably afford it if you can handle the down payment from your aunt’s inheritance…”

Kurt settled back onto his stool. “Have I ever actually said the words _I want to buy a house with you and raise some kids?”_

“Not exactly. But you’ve said other things. I mean…” He looked helplessly at Kurt. “I don’t think this is totally coming out of left field. Is it?”

“Not totally.” Kurt reached out and rested a hand on Puck’s hip, looking pensive. “You should eat dinner before you do anything else.”

Kurt sat beside him in silence and toyed with the rest of his food while Puck warmed up the plate Kurt had made him. He thought longingly of the beer in the fridge.

“You want me to let Finn know we’re here?” he said at last.

“I’ll do it.” Kurt picked up the phone. When he saw the conversation on the screen, he paused, then glanced at Puck. “Is it okay if I…?”

“Sure, yeah. Of course.”

Watching Kurt read the words he’d said earlier to Finn was both compelling and terrifying. Every time Kurt’s expression changed, he squirmed. When Kurt made a little _oh_ noise, he had to suppress a moan. At one point Kurt put out a hand, and Puck took it, grasping it tightly in his own sweaty palm.

“I’m not out of your league,” Kurt murmured.

“Yeah, whatever,” muttered Puck.

Kurt turned and smiled at him. When he reached for Puck, it wasn’t to touch his face or his chest. Puck just stared at Kurt as he unzipped Puck’s pants and knelt down on the linoleum floor.

“What are you--?”

“I think we need to do this before we try to talk to him.” He gazed up at Puck. “I want you to think about him, doing this to you.”

Even without Kurt’s instructions, he was already thinking about it. Puck thought Kurt must have known he was. It was over in an embarrassingly short amount of time.

He didn’t have to ask Kurt what he wanted in return, either. He knew as well as Kurt did what got him off. Knowing Kurt that well made him feel indescribably proud. When Kurt squeezed his eyes tight and gripped Puck’s hand tighter and gasped, “Oh my god, just like that,” he felt like his heart might break open and spill out onto the kitchen counter.

 _Out of my league doesn’t even come close,_ he thought.

“You were right,” he said to Kurt, when he could talk again. “That was a good idea. I feel a lot better.”

They left the dinner dishes on the counter, something Kurt never let happen, and wandered pantsless into the bedroom, holding Puck’s work phone as they stretched out on their bed together.

 _We’re home,_ Kurt typed to Finn. Puck was so close beside him he might as well have been on top of him. _You’ve got both of us, and we’re listening._

Puck watched Kurt’s calm, serious face as he waited for Finn to reply. Most of the time, when his feelings were so close to the surface like this, Puck tried really hard not to say anything. It seemed better than saying too much. But at the moment, he wasn’t sure that was going to be possible.

“Are you angry at him?” he asked.

“Why?” Kurt appeared to be more distracted than surprised by the question.

“Because he basically stopped talking to you for three years?”

Kurt shook his head. “He doesn’t have to forgive us for what we did. I can’t make it right any more than I can stop feeling the way I do about him. Being friends with him was just another way I was pretending to be something I wasn’t, every day. It was better not to have to pretend anymore.”

He started to ask Kurt _was it really better?_ when the little wiggly ellipses indicated an incoming message, and they both fell silent. Puck caught himself holding his breath and defiantly blew it out.

 _I doubt you’re wearing your old cheerleader outfit,_ Finn said.

Kurt grinned. _Not today. I did make cookies yesterday, though._

_I don’t know if I should ask how much of what you guys said was true and how much was made up?_

It wasn’t as if Kurt hadn’t thought about the answer in the intervening years, but Puck watched him hesitate.

“Tell him,” Puck said quietly.

“Are you sure?”

“I’d rather tell too much truth at this point. It’s not like it can make things any more complicated.”

 _Most of it was true,_ Kurt typed. _Other than Marley’s name, and the timing of some of the specific activities._

The silence went on for a long time, long enough that Kurt got up to put on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Puck supposed he didn’t want to be put in the situation of having to say _I don’t have any pants on_ if Finn happened to ask what he was wearing.

Finn’s next words appeared while Kurt was hanging up his work shirt. _True for which one of you?_

Puck picked up the phone. _All the family stuff was about Puck,_ he typed. _He didn’t wear any cheerleading outfit or make any cookies, either. But I think the rest was true for both of us._

_Yeah?_

_Yeah. Except the accidental text. We just made up an explanation for that._

_You mean the one where someone was offering to do someone else on the couch? What was all that about?_

Puck showed Kurt the phone when he came back to bed. Kurt shrugged.

“I feel a little like I’m killing any chance of us being friends again,” said Puck.

“Maybe. At least if you are, you’ll be starting over from someplace a little more honest.”

 _It was kind of a joke and kind of true,_ Puck said. _But it was Kurt._

_Kurt and Blaine?_

_No, Kurt and Puck._

There was another long pause. Kurt sighed, leaning against Finn.

“Either he’s too upset to respond, or he’s trying to figure out what to say.”

“Or he’s texting with one hand,” murmured Puck. When Kurt sucked in a breath and stared at him, Puck had to grin. “What, you didn’t think about it?”

“No!” Kurt cried. “I — no. I didn’t.” He paused. “I am now, though.”

 _So how long were you guys together without me and Sam knowing about it?_ Finn asked.

 _We weren’t,_ said Puck. _Just since that Sunday morning._

_You’re trying to tell me you guys got together because of this thing, too?_

“What does he mean, _too?”_ said Puck. Kurt shrugged.

 _Kurt broke up with Blaine the week before, but he didn’t tell anybody about it until Sunday night, after you texted us,_ Puck said.

 _Puck hit on you as soon as he knew you were single?_ He could almost hear the derision in Finn’s voice.

“Give me that,” said Kurt, nudging Puck’s hand. “I get to tell this part.”

“It’s a fair judgment,” Puck protested, but he handed over the phone. “I mean, I’m not saying I would have, but I sure as fuck was thinking about it.”

 _Puck didn’t do anything,_ Kurt typed. _He was a complete gentleman. And he spent the night on Kurt’s couch on Sunday because, after you sang to us, neither of us wanted to be that far away from you._

_Really?_

Kurt looked at Puck for a long moment before he reluctantly nodded. _Really,_ Kurt affirmed.

_I don’t know how you guys managed to serenade me in text, but it totally worked. Except I imagined Marley doing the singing. After I figured out who you actually were, I couldn’t think about it anymore._

_We’re so sorry, Finn. We never should have taken advantage of the situation._

_Yeah. I never expected something like this to come from either of you. I think I should go to bed. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?_

“Tomorrow,” said Puck. Kurt nodded. He typed, _That would be nice. Good night, Finn._

_Night._

Puck went out to wash the dishes and turn off the lights as Kurt got ready for bed. It was a comfortable routine by now, one of many they had, but Puck felt particularly aware of it tonight. He wondered how it would be different doing it in their own house. Having a kid sure as shit would change things. Maybe he should be more scared of that than he was.

After the apartment was dark and they were both in bed again, Kurt was the first to speak.

“Back in Lima, when we were pretending to be Marley. You said something about how we got to pick the best parts of both of us, to make the perfect girl for Finn. I think about that a lot.”

“We _were_ the perfect girl for him,” said Puck. “Except for the girl part.”

“Yes, but…” Kurt rolled over to face him, propping his arm under the pillow. “You said in real life, people don’t get to pick the best of one person and the best of another.”

“Yeah.”

“But isn’t that what we’re offering here?”

“What do you mean?” Puck said slowly. “We’re not offering anything.”

“Yes, we are,” whispered Kurt. He reached out and slipped his hand into Puck’s. “You know we are.”

Puck wrestled with arguments against the idea in his head for several long minutes while Kurt sat there, patiently waiting, holding his hand.

“He’s never going to accept it,” he said at last.

“He’s the one who contacted us, Puck. Not you. _Us._ He’s the one who said he misses _us._ And…” He raised a meaningful eyebrow. “He said he was having gay dreams. About both of us. Or did you not catch that part?”

“No,” said Puck. His mouth was dry. “I… I caught it.”

“So can we clarify what we’re offering? At least to ourselves.”

Puck nodded. He put his other hand on top of Kurt’s, so he was cradling it in both of his. “I was, uh. Going to come home today and ask you to marry me.”

He heard Kurt’s breathing speed up momentarily, and his hand clutched at Puck’s fingers, but otherwise Kurt remained calm. “If I said yes, would that change what you wanted with Finn?”

There was no way he could be anything other than honest in this moment. “No.”

“Would us being married change what I’m suggesting?”

“It might. I mean, I don’t think it does for me, but maybe it would for you, and…”

He paused long enough that Kurt prompted, “And you’re saying, that would be okay with you.”

“Yeah.”

“You’d give up what you’ve been dreaming about with Finn your whole life just to make me happy?”

Hearing Kurt put it like that made him feel like crying, but he didn’t. “You see how far I’ve gotten with that particular dream, right?”

“I’m just saying…” Kurt pressed a kiss to their joined hands. “I don’t think you’ve been willing to consider giving that up for anybody else before me.”

“No. There’s nobody like you, Kurt.”

“Well, no. But I haven’t been willing to consider giving that dream up for anybody else, either.” Kurt smiled sadly at him. “Maybe that makes me crazy, or selfish, but I need you to know the truth before I say yes to you.”

It was like his heart leapt straight up through his neck and burst out of his face in the form of a smile. Kurt laughed.

“I haven’t asked you yet,” Puck said.

Kurt’s own smile faltered, but only a bit. “I don’t need words to trust how you’re feeling about me. Just like I didn’t tell you _I want to buy a house with you and raise some kids,_ but you knew I did. But in this situation, with Finn, I think we really do need words.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “Do you think I’m completely crazy for wanting to even _think_ about attempting something with him? I mean, it’ll probably turn out to be a terrible mistake.”

“Maybe,” Puck agreed. “But we’ve already made some terrible mistakes with Finn, and he came back. Maybe that means something.”

“You know I don’t believe in fate.”

“I’m not saying fate. I’m saying, maybe something inside him is telling him he shouldn’t let this go, even if it is a risk. I would be so okay with taking that risk with you and him. And if it doesn’t work out with him, I would be just as okay to have it end up just you and me, buying a house and raising some kids.” He shook his head and chuckled. “Damn. Did I just say all that?”

“You did.” Kurt shifted under the covers until his naked body was pressed up against Puck’s. He kissed him passionately, as he’d done every night for the past three years. “You know how much I love you for saying it?”

“Enough maybe to let me ask you to marry me for real, with a ring and everything?”

“You already know my answer.”

He felt himself relax as Kurt rested his head on his bicep. “Yeah, but as a very smart guy pointed out to me, sometimes saying it out loud is important.”

* * *

When Puck woke up the next morning, he half-expected Kurt to be sitting with the phone in his hands, talking with Finn the way he had that first night they’d gotten together. But the phone was still on the nightstand, and Kurt was only beginning to stir. It surprised him how disappointed he felt.

Even so, he’d mostly forgotten about Finn until he received a text on the way from Frederick to Hagerstown for the next hot tub install. After he turned off the car, he sat in the client’s driveway looking at the phone for so long that Antonio leaned over from the passenger seat and poked him, saying, “Hey, man, are we going inside or what?”

The install took a good amount of physical effort, which left his mind free to think about other things. All through the process, he thought about Finn and the call and Kurt and everything they’d talked about the night before, and about Finn’s newest message, which asked, _You guys still sing at all?_

“Do you ever think text is easier than talking on the phone?” he asked Antonio as they were cleaning up.

“I hate talking on the phone.” Antonio made a face. “Even to my own mom. I’d rather drive across the city to get to her place and talk to her that way.”

“The, um, person I want to talk to is in Ohio. Kind of a long commute.” He dried his hands slowly, thinking about how three years had changed his own look, his shape, and wondering what it might have done to Finn’s. He shrugged. “I just think stuff gets lost when it’s only print.”

When they stopped for a sandwich on the way to Cumberland, he replied to Finn’s text. _Kurt’s in a musical right now. Anything Goes. Plus karaoke, when we’re drunk enough._

_I’m in a band, me and Sam and two other guys. Our lead singer, Michelle, she’s awesome._

He grinned at the phone, because the image was just too perfect. _I bet you rehearse in somebody’s basement._

_Sam and Dave’s living room, actually._

_Sam’s got a new roommate? When did he move out?_

_Over two years ago?_ There was a long pause. Puck wrapped up the rest of his sandwich and leaned against wall beside the booth, while Antonio ate the rest of his soup. _You mean you didn’t hear about Sam and Dave?_

_You don’t mean Dave Karofsky?_

_Yeah, them._

_What about them?_

_Dude, they’ve been together for three years._

Puck stared at the screen in fascinated disbelief. “Fuck me.”

Antonio looked up from his soup. “What?”

“Nothing. Just seems like everybody’s turning out to be queer.”

He snorted. “Well, I’m not.” Then he gave Puck an anxious glance. “Not — that there’s anything wrong with that.”

Puck gave him a little distracted salute. “No harm no foul.”

 _Since when is Sam interested in guys?_ he asked Finn.

_Since always, I guess? I don’t think it’s something you pick up along the way._

He thought about the ubiquitous fantasies that had saturated his teenage years, long before he’d considered doing anything about them. _Okay, no, but what the fuck?? How did they even hook up?_

_The way Sam tells it, he heard you talking about how Dave came up with those song lyrics you shared with me. He was touched how Dave would think about music like that? So he went to Dave with his guitar and sang to him. From what I remember, they pretty much didn’t leave his apartment for three days._

Puck struggled for a few minutes with feelings of betrayal at not already knowing this thing about Sam. He knew this was exceptionally irrational, considering he himself had said nothing to Sam or any of the rest of them about his own preferences for years.

 _Well,_ he said at last, a little grudgingly, _good for them._

_I should probably get back to work._

_Yeah, I’ve got a job on the other side of town. We’ll be at dinner early before Kurt’s rehearsal if you want to talk to him then._

_Thanks._

After dropping Antonio at the train station, Puck called Kurt.

“Okay, three things,” he said. “First of all, Sam and _Karofsky are an item. Did you know about this?”_

_“Didn’t you?”_

“No, I fucking didn’t! Why didn’t you say something?”

_“I thought it was a non-issue. I barely speak to Sam anymore.”_

“Well, he and Finn are in a band, and they rehearse at Sam and Dave’s place. That was the second thing. And... I guess the third thing was that Finn texted me today to tell me the first two things.”

_“Was that okay? Talking to Finn, I mean.”_

He gnawed on his thumbnail. “It was a lot less weird than it could have been. I mean, I never talk to anybody in the middle of the day except you. But this was Finn, so…”

 _“I know,”_ said Kurt, before the silence could feel awkward. _“He’s special.”_

“I haven’t talked to him in three years."

_“No, but you still feel that way about him.”_

“I guess. I mean… yeah, you're right. It’s the same.” He thought about Kurt and Finn in high school, their gradual progression from uneasy cohabitants to steadfast friends. He added, “I wish we did more music together.”

 _“You do?”_ Kurt sounded surprised. _“I never knew you wanted to do that.”_

“I didn’t think about it until Finn said something about the band.”

_“I would sing with you any time. Or — do you mean you wish you and Finn could?”_

“No, I mean us. I don’t know what I mean. Can we talk about this in person?”

_“Of course. I’ll see you at dinner.”_

Over the course of the drive to the Italian restaurant Kurt had selected, Puck was aware of being both a little distracted and a little turned on. The second thing was persistent enough that, when he got to the booth and Kurt was there, smiling at him, Puck couldn’t help but lean over and give him a big kiss.

“Well,” said Kurt, with a pleased chuckle. “Somebody’s had a good day.”

He didn’t even need to try to explain why he was feeling that way, which made it even better. What he did do was hand his phone over and glance over the menu while watching Kurt read the conversation he’d had earlier with Finn.

“You want to split the lasagna?” he asked.

“Sure. I'll get a salad.” Kurt looked up from the phone and cocked his head at him. “Hey, I don’t have to be drunk to enjoy karaoke with you.”

“No, I think it’s just that I’d rather play the music myself, long as I’m sober enough to do it.” He shook his head when Kurt tried to hand the phone back. “Why don’t you see if he’s around?”

“Okay.” He looked a little wary. “Is... there anything I _shouldn’t_ say to him?”

“Uh.” Thinking about the possible directions their conversation might take did nothing to diminish the tension. He touched Kurt’s foot with his toe under the table. “No?”

“Okay,” Kurt said again, and smiled. Puck laughed, shaking his head.

“Why do I feel like I’m on a first date?”

“I’ll keep it tame,” Kurt promised, his thumbs already moving quickly. The blush on his cheeks when the phone buzzed seconds later with a reply was more telling than any words. Puck sipped his water and watched him with a mixture of anxiety and protectiveness, but there was no way he was going to be able to convey any of that to Finn.

“There’s only so much you can say in text,” he pointed out when they were halfway through their dinner. Kurt looked up from the phone.

“Seems like he has plenty to say?”

Puck shrugged. “I mean… like music. Or other stuff.”

“Other stuff?” Kurt’s eyebrow went up, but he was smiling. “You don’t mean two AM chats over warm milk, do you.”

“Well, yeah, I do. Stuff like that. Or hanging out at the bar and talking about nothing.”

Kurt nodded. He set the phone on the table. “You miss him.”

 _Maybe more than I want to admit,_ he thought, but he shrugged again. “There’s a lot of stuff I miss about Finn. But there’s a lot more I never thought about us having, and now… I’m thinking about it.”

“Like making music with him.”

“Not just him.” He had to pause and sort through the answer in his head before he went on. “It’s like what we were talking about last night. I’m saying, yeah, being in a band with him would be awesome, and I still… now I’m remembering that I used to want it with him, but I’m also thinking about — what if we could have it with _us._ With the three of us, together.” He spoke the words tentatively, but saying them felt so good, he said them again. “I want a lot of things with the three of us.”

Kurt pressed his lips together and nodded. “I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No,” Kurt said quickly, with an equally quick smile, “no, it’s okay, I’m not upset.”

He rolled his neck restlessly. “I know, but… fuck, I kind of wish he hadn’t bothered texting us? Like, it was easier when he was still gone. When there wasn’t even a question of him being around anymore.”

“Have you changed your mind about the two of us being enough?” Kurt spoke calmly, but Puck could see the way he was watching him.

“No, no, I think the two of us would be awesome. But if you could have this, with him, maybe it would make you happy in a different way than I do, and I just, you know. I want you to have that.”

“Yes,” Kurt said, with no small amount of relief. “That’s how I feel, too.”

He could tell when Finn was being annoying by the expression on Kurt’s face. In fact, he could tell precisely how each message from Finn affected Kurt. By the time he paid the bill, Puck was a little dizzy.

“The condo isn’t really close enough to walk to, not if you want to make it to rehearsal,” he told Kurt. “You can follow me in your car.”

Kurt’s expression when he saw the skylights was about what Puck had expected, but that didn’t make it any less satisfying. He stood back and thumbed through Kurt and Finn’s text conversation while Kurt opened cupboards and exclaimed over closets.

_K: We’re at dinner now._

_F: Is this Kurt or Puck? Maybe I shouldn’t ask_

_K: It’s Kurt. I think you assumed correctly yesterday that we don’t keep much from one another._

_F: Then I guess you know about the house now._

_K: Yes. We’re going to look at it together after dinner._

_F: You really want to buy a house with Puck?_

_K: I really do._

_F: That still blows my mind._

_K: mine, too. He’s a better boyfriend than I ever expected him to be._

_F: I don’t think I need to hear details._

_K: Well, you called him a liar. I think you might._

The word still felt like a little poke to the chest, even coming from Kurt, who knew exactly what he was getting into and had still essentially said _yes_ to his circuitous marriage proposal.

_F: He lied to you yesterday and you don’t think I should be calling him that?_

_K: I’m saying I think you need to give him a break. I think that’s part of the reason you contacted him, actually, so I’m not upset, but you might want to lay off on the name-calling. He’s already harder on himself than anyone else will ever be. Plus I lied to you just as much, so you might as well place the blame on both of us._

_F: Because you didn’t tell me you had a thing for Puck?_

_K: That was part of it, yes. I didn’t tell you how bad things had gotten with Blaine either._

_F: I knew that. You didn’t have to tell me._

_K: So it only counts as a lie if you hadn’t yet figured it out?_

“Did you see the pull-down storage above the hallway?” Kurt called excitedly from upstairs. Puck grinned, slipped the phone into his pants and hurried up the steps.

He could see the lower half of Kurt’s fashionable trousers and his shiny shoes standing on the third-highest step of a retractable staircase.

“Cool,” he said. “A place to hide the bodies.”

“Not quite big enough for that, but plenty of room for suitcases.” Kurt descended carefully, accepting Puck’s offer of a hand. His eyes were shining. “Are you sure we can afford this place?”

“The bank seems to think so. Even if we only stay a couple years, it’d probably be worth it because of the appreciation.”

“I’ll give you _appreciation,”_ Kurt murmured. He gave the latch on the staircase a little shove and they both watched as it neatly folded into a panel in the ceiling. Then he kissed Puck with enthusiasm, linking his hands around his waist and pulling him in close. Puck’s whole body was already tingling.

“So you wouldn’t be mad if I told you I already called Brendan today and made an offer?”

“Not even a little bit,” Kurt promised. “What did the owners say? Did they accept it?”

“Not yet. They might not. I had to go low.” He hesitated, then added, “Because I kind of spent the rest of the down payment on something else.”

“Mmmm. Something else for me?”

Puck nodded.

Kurt pretended to think for a moment. “Is it… a really expensive sex toy?”

“I think some people might call it that.”

Puck stood there and smiled until Kurt began to complain and pat at his pockets. Finally he took out his wallet and carefully withdrew the gold band from inside. He handed it over to Kurt for inspection.

“Fancy,” Kurt said, his voice shaking a little. He was still smiling as he turned the ring over, stroking the filigree and the inset diamonds with the tips of his fingers.

“You should have a little bling. I’ll take it back if you think you’d rather have a regular plain band.”

Kurt made a face. “Since when have I ever wanted a regular plain anything?”

“Pretty much never,” Puck agreed. He felt his stomach do a little flutter as Kurt tried it on his left hand, and he let out his breath all at once. “Fuck.”

“Yeah.” Kurt kissed him again. “Can I wear it to rehearsal?”

“You can wear it anytime you want.”

“I’m honestly not sure which one I like better, the condo or the ring.”

“You don’t have to pick.”

They were standing close enough to one another that they both felt the phone vibrating in Puck’s pocket. Kurt started laughing.

“I didn’t read the rest of what he said to you over dinner,” said Puck.

“You’ll have to do that on your own. I’ve got to head out.” He leaned in and kissed Puck a third time, softly on his cheek. Into his ear, he whispered, “I’m glad I don’t have to pick.”

“You really don’t,” Puck whispered back. “You can like them both for different reasons.”

He stood there smiling stupidly at Kurt until long after he was gone, then took the smile with him when he walked down the street to the coffee house on the corner. The barista even asked if it was a special occasion.

“Not yet,” he said. “It might turn into one, though. I’ll keep you posted. Can I get one of those brownies and a cup of decaf?”

He settled into a seat in the corner, propped the phone up on the table and kept reading, the sensation of _Kurt’s-wearing-my-ring_ warming his stomach as much as the coffee.

_F: You weren’t lying to me about Blaine. You just didn’t tell me. It wasn’t about me._

_K: What if I told you it was? Then would it be a lie?_

_F: You’re saying Blaine treated you like crap because of me._

_K: Not exactly. I’m saying eventually he figured out that he didn’t have a chance with me._

_F: because of me._

_K: yeah._

_F: I’m not sure you should really be telling me that._

_K: Which is precisely what Puck said earlier. It was better you didn’t know._

_F: Okay, maybe I did know, but there was no way I was going to bring it up._

_K: Because you didn’t want to interfere, or because you didn’t want me to know you knew?_

_F: I don’t know, both?_

_K: I didn’t want to go through what happened sophomore year all over again. You made it abundantly clear you weren’t interested in me._

_F: I guess we all told some lies._

_K: I understand why you did, Finn. People aren’t supposed to feel about their stepbrothers the way I always felt about you._

_F: hard to text and cry at the same time, ,sorry_

_F: I think it sucks that you stayed with Blaine as long as you did but after that joke you and Puck played, I didn’t think I could deal with talking to you about it._

_K: It wasn’t exactly a joke. More like an excuse. We never expected to get a chance to actually be your perfect girlfriend._

_F: So, what, when Puck decided to fuck with me, you went with it?_

_K: I’m speaking for both of us._

There wasn’t anything after that. Puck slowly ate the last crumbs of brownie one at a time as he reread and re-reread the conversation. Then, fortifying himself with Kurt’s whispered words, _I’m glad I don’t have to pick,_ he typed: _Turns out neither of us were fucking with you. That was the actual lie._

The words _at dinner with mom, hang on_ came quickly. Puck spilled some coins on the table and headed out the door, back around the block to where his car was parked. Finn’s second text, _Okay, I’m in the bathroom,_ arrived just as he was putting on his seat belt.

_You don’t want to text in front of your mom?_

_I don’t want to explain who I’m talking to. This is Puck, right?_

_How’d you know?_

_Kurt never calls her “your mom.”  So you saw what he said._

It was ridiculous how this conversation could put him more on edge than asking Kurt to marry him. _Yeah, I read it. None of it was a surprise. He can say anything he wants to you. It sounds like you weren’t exactly surprised either._

_Yeah, I was! I knew he used to feel that way about me, and maybe I knew he didn’t stop in junior or senior year, but I didn’t expect he’d still be thinking about it._

_Or dreaming about it?_

When Finn didn’t respond, he started the car. The next reply came ten minutes later, but he didn’t read it until he pulled into his parking space ten minutes after that.

_I don’t think I can control what I dream about. It’s just weird stuff. It doesn’t mean anything._

_You really think that?_ he asked Finn. _Or are you just saying it because Kurt’s with somebody else?_

He made himself not look at the screen until he was inside and the door was locked, as though giving him that time to respond might make Finn answer honestly. But Finn still hadn’t said anything by the time he hung up his jacket. He sorted through the mail and got a beer out of the fridge, and there was still nothing. He sighed.

 _Look,_ Puck typed, _you’re not going to get him in trouble by talking about having gay dreams about him. You’re right, everybody has dreams. They don’t have to mean anything._

_They did, though._

Puck drained half of his beer. He set the phone down and walked restlessly to the window, then back again and picked it up. _That’s okay too._

_I really don’t get how you can say that._

_Are you asking? Do you really want to know?_

_Yeah. Only you have to promise you’re not going to mess with me this time. No jokes, just truth._

Puck realized he’d finished his beer and had started a second. He made himself put it down. _I promise._

_Okay, so how come you’re not pissed as hell at me about this? Or at Kurt?_

He sat and thought about what to say. It was remarkably hard to explain, now that he’d finally been given an opportunity to try.

_First of all, this is not new information. I always knew he felt like this about you, so no surprises._

_Okay._

_Right, so, when we were texting you together, he kind of let it all show on his face for the first time? And it was awesome. Watching him really get to tell you how he felt, even though you didn’t know it was him._

_Didn’t it make you jealous?_

_No,_ Puck said. _Not jealous. I liked seeing him happy like that. It would have been better if it had been real, but it was still good._

There was a long pause, during which Puck drank his second beer and paced the apartment.

 _Mom says hi,_ Finn said at last. Puck ran a sweaty hand over his forehead.

_Hi back._

_I went downstairs. It’s a craft room now._

Puck wasn’t sure if he should say he knew, that he’d been to the house more than once since Carole and Burt had converted Kurt and Finn’s old bedroom into something more useful, but decided that was too much to type into a text.

 _That was cool about you and Sam and your band,_ he said instead.

_Yeah, its kind of the best thing I’ve got right now._

_I miss,_ he started to type, then erased it and retyped it three times before finishing with _I miss making music like that._

_You and Kurt could do that._

_It wouldn’t be the same. He gets to sing his own stuff. He’s at rehearsal right now._

_I bet it would be great._

Puck paused and reread the last ten exchanges. _Dude, are you jealous of me and Kurt?_

_I guess I am. Which might put me in the running for the shittiest stepbrother ever, but I guess I have to be honest here._

_You do get that he’s totally in love with you?_

_Okay, maybe, but he’s with you. He’s freaking moving in with you._

_We already live together. But I did give him a ring tonight._

He waited for a long time for a reply. He went looking for a third beer and noticed with mixed relief and annoyance that it was the last one.

 _Congratulations,_ Finn said. _What will that make you, my brother in law?_

_Can we not get hung up on labels right now? Yeah, all right, it will, but that doesn’t change anything about how he feels about you or what he wants._

_What he wants is to be with you, dude._

_What he wants is not to have to choose. And I told him he doesn’t have to. He gets everything he wants._

_Puck, nobody gets everything they want._

He shook the third empty beer can and tossed it in the sink. It echoed loudly in the empty apartment. _My thumbs are getting fucking tired. Can I just call you?_

_I guess?_

_Kurt will be home at 11:30 if you want to wait and talk to him instead._

There was no reply. Puck waited another thirty seconds before pressing _Call._ He drummed his foot on the floor until he heard someone pick up.

 _“Hey,”_ said Finn’s voice. It was the same voice Puck remembered from three years ago. It was the same as it had ever been the last thousand times he’d spoken with Finn. It was even the same, he was mortified to notice, as the voice featuring in his last sex dream.

“Hey,” he said.

 _“I do want to talk to Kurt,”_ Finn added. _“It’s not like I don’t.”_

“Well, you kind of get both of us this way.”

_“Not right now. Right now I get you.”_

Puck’s voice halted in his throat. “Yeah,” he said at last. “You do.”

_“Is this too weird? I can just—“_

“No. I mean, yeah, it’s weird, and…” He sighed. “I’m getting stuck on this promise to tell the truth. There’s a lot of it.”

_“I can always hang up if it gets too hard to hear.”_

“Yeah, I guess you can.”

_“We can talk about easier stuff if that’s better.”_

“No, it’s all hard stuff,” Puck said. “Like, everything I can think to say has stuff underneath it, stuff we never talked about, and I don’t know how we can even talk about all of it, ever.”

He could hear Finn’s breathing. Even that was hard, but he couldn’t bring himself to put the phone down.

_“Do you really hate me that much?”_

“What?”

_“I can’t think of any other reason for it to be hard.”_

“No. No. I don’t hate you at all. I feel…” He had to push the words out, a few at a time. “Embarrassed. Ashamed, for keeping stuff from you for so long. Because I didn’t want to stop doing what we were doing. Because I thought it was enough.”

 _“What were we doing?”_ Finn was clearly bewildered.

“Hanging out. Being friends. Like always.”

_“And that was hard?”_

“Only after that weekend. Because then it was so fucking obvious we could never go back to the way it was.”

_“Because you and Kurt hooked up? You don’t think we would have learned to deal with —“_

“Because of _you,”_ he said. His voice wasn’t loud, but Finn stopped talking anyway.

 _“I thought you said that wasn’t a problem.”_ Now Finn sounded nervous.

“Not because of how you felt about Kurt. Because of how we felt about you.”

_“Oh.”_

There was an ominous pause before and after that word. Puck wondered if it would be better to hang up now, but it was probably too late for that.

“Yeah. Me, and Kurt. We weren’t faking any of that. I think I actually believed I was trying to do you a favor, pretending to be Marley, to keep you from saying the L-word too soon, but that wasn’t the truth.”

 _“No?”_ Finn was almost whispering now. _“What was the truth?”_

“The truth,” he said, through gritted teeth, “the fucking actual truth, was that I wanted you to say it to _me._ Even if it was only text. Even if you didn’t know who I was when you said it. I wanted to be the one who made you _feel_ it.”

 _“Oh,”_ Finn said weakly, _“... god.”_

“Yeah, only it wasn’t just me, it was me and Kurt, and it was all my fault, right? Instead of one, I fucked up two friendships.”

 _“You got Kurt, though.”_ Now Puck could hear the envy in his voice. It didn’t make him feel any better to hear it. _“You and Kurt got each other out of that. I’m the one who got jack shit.”_

“Yeah.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I am really sorry, man.”

_“You’re sorry for coming clean?”_

“No. For all of it. I guess I’m actually sorry for not doing it in second grade. I just didn’t know what to say then. And when I finally figured out what to say, years later, it felt like it was too late.”

_“Second grade?”_

“Yeah.” He sank down to the linoleum floor and huddled against the corner cupboard. “You don’t tell your best friend that shit. Not if you don’t want to get laughed at.”

_“You think I would have laughed at you?”_

“Either that or you would have been so fucking weirded out.”

_“Maybe it would have helped. To know I wasn’t the only one feeling it.”_

He sniffed, smearing the snot and tears back from his face with the heel of his hand. “What, you think you would have wanted to be my boyfriend when we were eight? That wasn’t even a thing guys did back then. Even if we were both feeling it. You saw how it went with Kurt.”

He could hear he wasn’t the only one crying. _“Look, Kurt scared the crap out of me sophomore year, but only because I really did think I was the only one who felt that way.”_

“Yeah. Okay. You can be pissed at me for not coming out to you when we were in elementary school, but then you have to be pissed at yourself for not doing it either.”

Now Finn was laughing. _“You were always the brave one, dude.”_

“I was the asshole. You were the awesome one.”

_“I wasn’t anything close to awesome.”_

“No, you were. You were the best of all of us. We made fun of you, but secretly we wanted to be like you, because—“ He wondered if the words would actually come out if he tried to say them. “Because we were in love with you.”

_“You were?”_

“I was.” He closed his eyes. “Still am.”

 _“Oh.”_ This time, it wasn’t an acknowledgement. It was a little gasp, a shocked sound. Puck felt it inside his gut, almost like Finn had punched him, but the breath was somehow escaping from Finn’s own compressed lungs. Eventually he was able to talk again.

“So, yeah. It made it easier to be with Kurt because we both felt that way, even if nobody else knew it. Even if you didn’t know it. Except then you did, and you thought we thought it was a joke, and I didn’t know how to tell you it wasn’t.”

 _“You did try to tell me,”_ said Finn. _"I_ _think... there was no way I was going to trust what you said after that.”_

“Yeah, I don’t blame you. You thought we were aliens.”

Finn let out a short, rueful laugh. _“That dream. That was so fucked up.”_

“You’ve always had fucked up dreams.” He snickered. “The one about the crayons from sixth grade.”

 _“Oh my god, I forgot about that one!”_ He could hear Finn giggling. _“What about the machine guns in the garage from eighth?”_

“The talking French fries were still the best.”

_“There’s, um. I had a bunch of dreams I never told you about.”_

“Oh, yeah?” He flexed his fingers on his thigh. “You think you might tell me about them now?”

_“I don’t know if you really want to hear about them.”_

“I really do. It’s not like you’re going to shock me.”

Finn let out a little groan. The sensations in Puck’s gut traveled lower. _“I think… I think if I’m going to talk about those dreams, I want to tell them to both of you.”_

“Fair enough,” said Puck, keeping his voice steady. “You want Kurt to call you when he gets home?”

_“I don’t know. I need some time to think about… what you said.”_

“Okay.”

_“I’m not mad. I’m just, you know. It’s a lot. And I’m trying not to rush into things, like you told me. I want to do the right thing, no matter what I’m feeling.”_

He was used to the sensation of loving somebody by now, the way it burst up out of his stomach and into his chest, making it hard to breathe. He just wasn’t used to feeling it for anybody except Kurt. He sat with it for a few moments, until he heard Finn clear his throat.

_“That okay?”_

“Yeah, man, that’s really okay. It’s good.” He wondered if _I’m proud of you_ would be totally presumptuous, considering they hadn’t spoken to one another for three years. _I’m still in love with you_ was bad enough. “I’m going to talk to Kurt about this, okay?”

_“Yeah, of course. It’s the two of you together.”_

He let himself revel in the sound of those words, in that concept, for a long time after Finn hung up.  It wasn’t even really about sex, although he’d been hard since he’d arrived home. _It’s the two of you together._

Puck stripped off his work clothes and put on a pair of running shorts and a tank top, then threw himself into working off the brownie and three beers. He let the rhythm of interval training keep him distracted until he heard Kurt’s key in the lock.

Kurt looked exhausted after rehearsal, but he smiled, pausing on his way toward the bathroom. He was still wearing the ring.

“It smells like sweaty boy in here,” he said. “Open a window before you join me in the shower.”

Kurt didn’t have to ask him twice. Puck tossed his workout clothes over the edge of the hamper and followed him into the bathroom, stepping over the tub into the spray.

“I didn’t hear anything from Brendan,” he said, sluicing water off his shaved head with both hands, “but I did follow up with Finn.”

“Good.” Kurt squeezed his eyes shut as the water splashed across his face. “I wasn’t crazy about the way we left things, but I figured you’d find a way to work it out. You always do.”

Puck shook his head. “I don’t know why you trust me with stuff like that.”

“Are you kidding?” Kurt laughed. “You give me a dozen reasons to trust you every day.”  

“I don’t think I see myself like that. I always figured I was destined to be the asshole.”

He kissed Puck softly under the water. “Not anymore. Whatever you used to be like, you’ve turned into the responsible one.”

While Kurt sat naked on the edge of the bed, holding the phone and slowly thumbing through their conversation, Puck toweled off, thinking about that. When Kurt made a choking noise, Puck sat down beside him.

“Which part?” he asked.

“All of it?” His face was red, but that could have been from the shower. “He’s jealous of us. And you told him I’m in love with him.”

“You are.” He touched Kurt’s knee. “I said a lot more out loud.”

“And he…?”

“He’s going to take a little time to think about it. He said he doesn’t want to rush into things. He wants to do the right thing… no matter how he’s feeling.”

Kurt’s eyes widened. “No matter how _he’s_ —?”

“The two of us, together.” Puck knew he was failing to keep the grin off his face. “That’s who we are. He said it. And he said he’ll call us soon.”

“Wow,” Kurt breathed. “What did you _tell_ him?”

“The truth.” He pushed Kurt’s shoulder down onto the bed, climbing on top of him. “Okay, I didn’t tell him we’ve been imagining him in bed with us for three years, but I think he’s starting to get the idea.”

It was as evocative a concept as it had ever been. Kurt put his mouth right up against Puck’s ear and whispered how Finn felt against his skin, where Finn’s hands were, and just how Finn sounded when he was close to coming. Even as they rushed toward a conclusion, Puck marveled at the idea that it was possible he might get to witness those things someday.

“I told him about the ring,” he said to Kurt, when things were calm again and they were both horizontal.

“Yeah? How did he take that?”

“I think he was more confused than jealous. Like, who would that make me and him?” He shrugged. “Anyway, at least he didn’t freak out when I said the word _boyfriend._ ”

“I imagine we’re all a little more mature about these things than we were in high school.” Kurt picked up the phone in both hands. “And I think now I can do this without being completely distracted by you.”

“Hey, glad to provide a necessary service.” Puck grinned. He leaned over Kurt’s rib cage and watched him type: _Would you like to talk to the two of us together?_ “He might not answer, you know.”

“I know,” said Kurt. He sounded more than calm. _Smug._  “I think it doesn’t even matter anymore. I know he wants to. He will when he’s ready.”

Puck ran his thumb over the back of Kurt’s left hand, feeling the ring against the webbing of his finger. “Anybody say anything tonight about this?”

“Only everyone. They all wanted to know when the date was.” Kurt raised an eyebrow.

“Uh…” Puck swallowed. “I mean… we don’t really even have to do that. Do we? A wedding?”

 _"Excuse_  me??”

“It just seems like a lot of work. We could, you know, skip the big expensive party and call it done.”

He waited until Kurt’s eyes had reached unreasonably levels of huge to grin at him. Kurt took a very justified swat at his bare chest. “Oh my god. You really _don’t_ play nice jokes, do you?”

“Depends on your definition of _nice,”_ Puck said, fending off further blows. “You’re marrying me, aren’t you? Ow! You must think I’m at least a little bit nice.”

“I don’t know if I _am_ marrying you,” retorted Kurt. “You still haven’t asked.”

“You want me down on my knees?”

“You just did that to me.”

“Maybe one of those public declarations of love, like singing to you on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial or something?”

“I want you to tell me why you want to marry me when you’re in love with somebody else.”

Puck felt the smile slip from his face, but Kurt didn’t appear to be upset. He was right where he had been a moment ago, resting with his shoulder pressed against Puck’s, waiting expectantly.

“Maybe I should ask you the same thing,” Puck said.

“Maybe, but you’re the one asking _me_ to marry you. In theory, anyway. I haven’t actually heard a lot of asking.”

“Kurt, will you--mmph.”

Kurt removed his hand from Puck’s mouth as quickly as he’d placed it there. “In a minute. Why am I worth settling for when you never would have settled for anybody else?”

“Who says I’m settling?” Puck snapped. “You’re so sure you’re second best to Finn. I think maybe you’re selling yourself short.”

“Almost never.” He could see the smile Kurt was suppressing, and that made it easier to attempt to answer.

“I guess it’s because you never questioned what he was to me. Like, how I felt about him was a part of me, and you didn’t ask me to… to cut it off, or disguise it, or pretend it wasn’t there.”

“Finn’s not a bad moustache, Puck.”

“He’s just as dorky, though. And sometimes just as unexpectedly hot.”

Kurt turned suddenly to face him and poked him squarely in the chest, his eyes flashing. “You are _not_ growing a moustache.”

“I promise.” He caught Kurt’s fingers and held them, along with his gaze. “And... even if nothing ever happens between us and Finn, or maybe if it’s just you and him, or whatever, none of that actually matters. I want you to marry me because of who you are, not because of who you love or don’t love. You’re a million times better than any other person I know. Life is way more interesting with you than without you.” He smiled at the way Kurt was squirming, and his rapidly reddening cheeks. “Just how corny do you want me to get?”

“You’ve already exceeded maximum capacity. And never stop. And -- yes.”

“Yes?” Puck prodded at his ribs until Kurt ducked his head, giggling.

 _“Yes,_ yes, I’ll marry you!”

“Well, good thing, since you’re already wearing that ring and everything. People might get the wrong idea.” Puck pulled him down to rest on top of him, and Kurt sighed in contentment. “This is way too comfortable. I guess I’ll have to wait to serenade you on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial tomorrow.”

“That would be appropriate, wouldn’t it.”

They both jumped a little as the phone buzzed on the pillow right next to their ear. Puck reached up awkwardly and grasped it with two fingers, then brought it around in front of them so they could both focus on it.

 _You want me to call you?_ Finn said.

“Yes,” said Kurt, even as Puck was already typing _Good timing._ When the phone rang ten seconds later, Puck set it on speakerphone and rested it on his chest.

“Hi, Finn,” said Kurt. They heard Finn exhale, then chuckle nervously. They both settled in closer, watching each other.

 _“Hey, Kurt,”_ he said. _“Been a while.”_

“Can we just agree it’s been way too long and move on from there?” Puck asked.

_“So you’re saying we should skip all the small talk?”_

“Honestly?” There were already tears leaking out of the corner of Kurt’s eyes and trickling down the side of his face, but he was smiling. “You can talk about anything you want and I’m going to sit here and listen to it, I just miss your voice.”

 _“Honestly, huh?”_ There was a long pause, another sigh, and then Finn said, quietly, _“I miss yours, too.”_

“How’s your mom?” Puck prompted.

_“She’s good? I mean, they both are. I get together with them for dinner a couple times a week, when Burt’s in town. They always talk about you, Kurt, the stuff you’re doing, and Puck’s business. As far as they’re concerned, it’s pretty much like you’re already married.”_

“Can’t tell if there’s a difference yet, since we aren’t married yet.”

_“I mean, I don’t think they’d treat you any differently. I’m not saying it wouldn’t be different.”_

Kurt glanced at him unhappily. Finn already sounded like he was on the verge of hanging up.

“Hey, don’t get me wrong, it might be,” Puck said quickly. “But it seems pretty clear we’re not looking at having an ordinary marriage.”

 _“Okay,”_ Finn said warily. Puck nudged Kurt.

“Um,” said Kurt. “We’re both -- that is, you heard earlier from Puck that we -- and me, I told you… right?”

There was a silence during which Puck tried not to roll his eyes.

 _“Was that supposed to make sense?”_ Finn asked.

“Sorry,” Kurt muttered, his face scarlet. “I’m just--”

_“Seriously, you’re a lot more eloquent in text. I’m only guessing you were the one who was flirting with me and saying all the really sappy things, back when you were trying to get me to -- whatever.”_

“To say you were in love with us.” Kurt sighed. “It was both of us, really.”

_“Huh. Is that all you wanted? You could have just asked. I would have said it to you any time.”_

“Dude, no, you wouldn’t have,” said Puck. “You would have freaked out and stopped hanging out with us.”

_“No, that’s what I did after you lied to me. I don’t know what I would have done if you’d said it to me, but it’s not like I didn’t feel that way too.”_

“Maybe you felt it, but that’s not the same thing as wanting to bang us.”

 _“Well, no.”_ He cleared his throat. _“I, uh. Yeah, that’s a little more confusing.”_

“Finn,” said Kurt, “We’re not judging you for not being sure how you feel. I don’t think either one of us is trying to confuse you more.”

“We can keep it PG,” Puck added.

_“Not if I’m going to tell you about these dreams.”_

“That’s up to you.” Kurt moved in closer to the phone, resting his hand on Puck’s chest. “I’m willing to stick with flirting with you and telling you sappy things.”

_“You mean, like, we pretend all over again from the beginning?”_

“No pretending. Just see what happens if we don’t try to hide the feelings that are there. That’s the kind of honesty we can have now. And if anything bothers you, say something.”

 _“It doesn’t bother me,”_ said Finn. _“I just… I don’t know how much or how little I should say. If you recall, I was never good at this kind of thing with girls, either.”_

“Hey, it’s not like you have to worry about whether or not we like you,” said Puck. “I think we already covered that.”

This time Finn’s laugh sounded a little hysterical. _“If you were any other dudes I’d be, like, thanks but no thanks, I’m not into that? But it’s not that simple with you.”_ He sighed. _“It’s not the same around here since the two of you left. I’m stuck watching Sam and Dave be totally sappy with each other, and... I miss having friends to hang out with who really get me. I miss you guys.”_

“No, you’re right,” said Kurt. “It’s _not_ that simple, and that was why we couldn’t stay. We couldn’t just keep pretending we were only feeling friendship things after what happened. It was easier to leave.”

_“I guess I get it. I’m just saying… I’m still thinking about it, a lot. What you said in the texts, and about the dreams, and how I felt after.”_

Kurt took Puck’s hand. “How did you feel?”

_“It wasn’t bad. I mean, in the dreams… it was hot, okay? Obviously I liked it. I just don’t know if I could do what you did, Puck, and switch teams like that. I’m just a regular guy.”_

“You mean instead of a gay one.”

 _“Right,”_ he said uncomfortably. _“But here I am, calling you anyway. I just don’t know what I’m doing. I’m not, like, looking for a hookup.”_

“You’re looking for _the one,"_ said Kurt. “You’ve always been looking for _the one._ We wanted you to realize there is no such thing.”

_“Yeah, except you guys ended up finding each other, right?”_

He sounded so bitter and hurt that Kurt flinched back. Puck sat up, holding the phone in his hand.

“If anybody was our _the one,_ it would have been you,” he said, trying to keep his tone mild. “What, a decade of being the center of our lives wasn’t enough?”

_“Yeah, I guess I didn’t realize you’d even been doing that until you left for DC. I think… no, I know. I owe you an apology. Like, I blamed you for not telling me the truth? But in a way I was lying to myself the whole time. I had no idea how important you were to me until you were gone. So here I am. You deserve to know it wasn’t one-sided.”_

“Wasn’t?”

 _“No,”_ said Finn after a moment. _“It still isn’t. But I’m kind of scared I’m going to mess things up even more by bringing it up.”_

“No, we talked about that,” said Kurt. He sniffed and wiped his nose. “Whatever happens, it’s okay.”

 _“Are you bad crying or good crying?”_ Finn asked anxiously.

“It’s good,” said Puck. Kurt nodded as he reached for a tissue, and Puck put an arm around him. “He’s smiling. If you were here, you’d see he’s happy.”

_“Yeah, I think I might not be quite ready for that.”_

“For him to be happy?”

 _“No!”_ Finn said, and Kurt laughed. _“No. I mean -- being there... I totally want you to be happy, Kurt. You know that, right?”_

“I know that,” Kurt said through his tears.

 _“I’m really happy for you guys. Even if I’m kind of being an asshole about it. I really am glad you’ve got each other. You both deserve it.”_ Now his voice was fragmenting again, but it didn’t seem to be stopping him. _“I love you, okay?”_

“We love you too,” Puck said it before Kurt could speak, which only seemed to make Kurt cry harder. He held him and the phone.

 _“Yeah,”_ said Finn. He sounded dazed. _“Jesus. Okay, I think I’m… I’m gonna say good night. Talk to you tomorrow.”_

Kurt didn’t stop crying, even as they got ready for bed. He had to stop in the middle of putting toothpaste on his brush and leaned on the counter, his face screwed up in a grimace as he made eye contact with Puck in the mirror.

“What the hell are we doing?” he asked Puck. “How did I think this would even work? Who would understand? Carole and Dad sure wouldn’t.”

“I wouldn’t assume that. Your folks aren’t like most people.”

“And what if somebody else finds out? The media had enough of a field day with Congressman Hummel’s gay son managing his campaign. If he runs again, and they discover something’s going on between him and his _other_ son _\--”_

“Hey. Cart before the fucking horse, Kurt.” He placed his hands on Kurt’s shoulders, putting pressure until Kurt let out his breath in a shuddering sigh. “We’ll keep it private. Stick to my work cell, nothing on email or on paper. Anyway, he’s nowhere near sure what he wants.”

 _“We’re_ the ones doing the wanting.” Kurt wasn’t smiling now. “We’re the ones asking him to take all the risks -- to change his life for us. How is that a fair thing to expect of someone?”

Puck didn’t know what to say to that. Kurt was asleep within minutes of them climbing into bed, but Puck stared at the ceiling, trying to let his brain work out satisfactory answers to Kurt’s questions.

It was a long while later that his work phone buzzed with a text. He almost never left it on at night, but now he had the feeling that he’d never turn it off again.

_Kurt okay?_

_He’s asleep,_ Puck replied.

_That’s good. How about you?_

_Not asleep._

_Yeah, I was guessing sleep texting wasn’t a thing. Did I just wreck everything again?_

_Dude, you didn’t wreck anything before. You get that you’re a big deal for us, right?_

_Yeah, but you’re getting married. Maybe that’s the big deal you should be focusing on._

Puck looked over at Kurt, resting on his side, his bare back rising and falling, and felt the familiar pangs of affection and amazement.

 _He made me explain why I wanted to marry him,_ said Puck, _considering I’m in love with somebody else._

_That would be me, right?_

_Yeah. It’s you. He’s in love with you, too._

_You’re giving me fucking chills,_ said Finn. Puck smiled.

 _I don’t even need to threaten you to know you would treat him right,_ he told Finn. _That’s the best part. Even if I don’t really know you anymore, I trust you._

_You do know me, though. I’m the same. You even said so, that I was always just me._

_Yeah. You were._

_You’re the one who changed, but now I think it’s not in the way I thought._

_Kurt says I’m the responsible one now. Isn’t that a joke?_

_I’m not laughing,_ said Finn. _I think he might be right._

That gave him chills right back. He sat with the evidence of Finn’s trust in his hands, gazing at the screen.

 _I’m sorry I called you a liar,_ Finn added.

_It’s okay. I was. But I’m not anymore._

_Yeah, that’s what Kurt said._

_Kurt also said he thinks it’s unfair of us to ask you to change your life for us,_ Puck typed.

_Well, it’s my call, right? So it’s not like you’re making me do anything. I’m the one who gets to say yes or no._

_Yeah, okay. I just wanted to tell you, changing my life for Kurt? Pretty much the best thing I ever did._

_Okay, I am so fucking sick of being scared of that. And I don’t know if I’m ever going to stop being scared._

_Small steps._ He looked at sleeping Kurt again, then grinned. _I’ll give him a kiss from you if you want._

_Holy shit_

He waited a few moments before asking, _Was that a no?_

_That was a give me a second and I’ll think about it._

_It doesn’t even have to be a sexy kiss. Just one on the cheek._

There was a long pause, during which Puck closed his eyes for a few minutes and savored the image of Finn giving Kurt a kiss like that.

_You said he was asleep?_

_Yeah, he is,_ said Puck. _A kiss probably won’t wake him though. Unless I really go for it._

_Just a little one. Don’t wake him up._

It was so tempting to turn the moment into something more, but Puck managed to exhibit uncommon restraint. Kurt barely stirred at the touch of his lips.

_You know that spot right in front of his ear? I put it there._

_From me?_

_Well, I guess it was from me, too. From both of us. He’ll see it in the morning. You can give him one yourself the next time you see him._

_Maybe. If I’m not a total coward._

_Yeah, no, you’re not. You sent us that text, right? And you said all that stuff just now._

_I still don’t know what I even think is going on here._

_It’s honesty, dude,_ said Puck. _The kind that means we make it up as we go. But I think that only works when everybody’s doing it._

_So you want me to say I’m doing it? With everybody?_

He stifled a laugh. _Just with us, I hope._

_Yeah. Just with you. Both of you, together. Fuck._

_Scary?_

_If I’m being honest, I was actually thinking hot._

Puck had to close his eyes for a minute. When he opened them, Kurt was still there beside him, wearing his ring, and the screen on his phone still had a text from Finn that said _I was actually thinking hot._ He took a long, shaky breath.

 _Yeah, no doubt,_ he said, _that would be hot._

_No, but this is what I don’t get. if you guys are so happy, why would you even want this with me?_

_I guess we’re crazy. Fucking crazy about you, maybe._

_Now that was over the top sappy,_ Finn replied.

_Yeah, but you love that. You said, you want Kurt to flirt with you and tell you sappy things. Believe me, I give him shit for it but I love it too._

_Yeah._ There was a pause, then: _You really love me?_ Puck could almost hear his tentative, earnest voice asking the question.

_I said it, didn’t I? Yeah. I do._

_And you’re not aliens?_

This time he couldn’t hold back his laugh. Kurt rolled over onto his pillow and opened sleepy eyes.

“What’s going on?” he murmured.

“We’re not aliens,” Puck replied, smiling. “And he thinks we’re hot together. And he kissed you.”

It took Kurt a few moments to blink himself awake and raise himself up on his forearms. He scrolled back to read the conversation, and made a little soft sound, touching the place on his cheek where Puck had placed Finn’s kiss.

 _I mean,_ Finn had continued, _I’m pretty sure you’re not, but it’s hard to know for sure? I guess there’s a lot of stuff I used to be sure about that I’m not sure about anymore. Or maybe I was never sure about anything._

 _You don’t have to be sure,_ Kurt told him. _Whatever you thought we were, we want a chance to show you the honest truth, and you can draw your own conclusions._

_Is that Kurt?_

_Yes. It’s us together._

_I’m sorry I woke you up._

_I’m not sorry at all. I’m just happy._

_I guess it’s not every day you get engaged._

Kurt leaned close against Puck, who supported him as best he could with one arm. “Would it be breaking some version of the three-day rule to tell him that kiss meant as much to me as your proposal?”

“I think it might.”

Kurt sighed. “It’s not a contest, you know. My feelings for him and my feelings for you.”

“No,” Puck agreed. “But trust takes time, right? You can’t rush this.”

 _I’m happy you’re here, with us,_ Kurt told Finn. _Thank you. I’ll go back to sleep now._

_Okay. Good night._

He set the phone down, then wrapped his arms around Puck. “I could use some of those sexy kisses now, if you don’t mind.”

Puck didn’t. He obliged, until Kurt laughed into his mouth. His eyes were shining with more than tears when he broke away.

“You just want to give me everything I want, don’t you?”

“Seems that way sometimes,” said Puck, “but secretly I’m just getting everything I want.”

“So selfish,” he whispered, tracing Puck’s cheek with his fingers. “You did change your life for me. You left home and moved out here to take a chance on this. Everything you do, you do it for me.”

“You really are begging for me to start singing to you, you know.”

Kurt moved his fingers to Puck’s lips, and Puck stopped talking. “If I had a “The One,” it’d be you. No fantasies, no maybes. You.”

Puck nodded. Kurt leaned in and gently kissed him on the same spot Puck had found, directly in front of his ear.

“You don’t have to choose,” Puck said, when his voice finally came back.

“I know.” Kurt tugged on him to lie down. “It’s just the truth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look for a follow-up smutty chapter with the three of them at some point. Thanks for reading!


End file.
